


Hearsay and Validation

by LadyWinterlight, NerdyKat



Series: Hermione Granger and the Child Protection Movement [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Dynamics, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Sibling Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-05-10 05:31:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 71,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14730884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyWinterlight/pseuds/LadyWinterlight, https://archiveofourown.org/users/NerdyKat/pseuds/NerdyKat
Summary: Next in the Child Protection Movement series, this story will pick up where "Secrets and Truths" left off and tell the story of how events continue to change through the events of "Prisoner of Azkaban."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the next part of our continuing AU! This story is substantially complete, and so should post regularly - probably Tues/Fri this time.

Gotta love the knowing smirk. Welcome to third year!

* * *

 

**Chapter 1**

After a the long journey back to Platform 9 ¾, Harry and Hermione waited for the Hogwarts Express to almost completely clear out before they exited the train to greet their parents. Jean, on some motherly instinct, hugged Harry first, tightly embracing him and just holding him. He could have stood there forever, but George was hugging Hermione and clearly wanted to hug Harry too.

“Fish and chips tonight?” Jean suggested. She was defaulting to comfort food, trying to settle the buzz of nerves that existed around the four of them.

“Sure,” Hermione said. Harry silently shrugged his shoulders, too nervous to care about food.

“Or we can wait and see how we feel in a few hours,” George said. “After you two tell us how term went.”

“Once we get home,” Hermione agreed tightly. It was a really awkward car ride home. No one said anything, and the tension could be cut with a knife. Hermione automatically handed Harry a book once they got into the car and they buried themselves in the stories, distracting themselves from the conversation they were both dreading. 

The second they got home, Harry automatically started making tea for everyone. He laid everything out and the family settled in. Crookshanks hopped up on the couch and curled up between Harry and Hermione. Hedwig, released from her cage, settled on the back, beside Harry and preening his hair in a motherly fashion. “So,” Jean prompted. “Tell us everything.”

Harry started with what was easy, figuring everything out and the events of the majority of the term, Hermione filling in the occasional details when he forgot something. He hesitated for a moment when he reached the point when Ron had been kidnapped, then pressed on, explaining how they figured out where the chamber was opening and finding out that Ginny had been duped and enchanted, and likely so had Ron. 

Harry went on to explain how he’d run off without Hermione to go get a teacher, and how Lockhart had wanted Harry to show him the opening. Harry explained how Lockhart had held them at wandpoint and forced them into the chamber, how Lockhart had been forcing them into  the main part of the chamber, but once they were inside and distracted by the Basilisk, they hadn’t seen him again. 

Hermione then told her part of things, how she’d gone after Harry, with Harry’s invisibility cloak and Neville had joined her. Talking to Myrtle and learning what happened with Lockhart. Finding the cowardly so-called professor hiding in the passage just outside the Chamber, with the students’ wands sticking out of his pocket. Knocking him out, retrieving the stolen wands, and continuing onward to help their friends.

Harry explained about meeting Tom Riddle, facing down the basilisk and how his friends had helped. Then Fawkes, Dumbledore’s phoenix, arrived with the Sorting Hat, which oddly contained a sword. Fighting the basilisk with the sword, and eventually stabbing it through the roof of its mouth.

Hermione was crying at this point and George pulled her into his lap as she haltingly said, “A fang from the basilisk ended up in Harry’s arm when he stabbed it. He… there’s no antivenin for a basilisk…”

Harry looked down, unable to look at his parents as they learned that Harry could have - would have died without the phoenix tears.”

“How… how close did it get?” George asked, his voice breaking and thick. 

Hermione was unable to answer so Harry did. “It was close,” he admitted. “I couldn’t move, I was cold, and things started to get… fuzzy. There’s no antivenin, but Phoenix Tears can heal just about anything. Fawkes was still there; Hermione told me he landed beside me. Cried with her, and my arm… just started to heal.”

Jean moved to the couch and pulled Harry into her lap. He was getting too big for her to do so, but she managed somehow. George scooped Hermione up and joined them, all four needing to be physically close. “We could have lost you,” Jean whispered, holding Harry tightly.

“It was terrible,” Hermione sobbed, hand reaching out to clutch at Harry’s arm as George held her tightly. “Harry was dying, shivering and bleeding in my arms, and I couldn’t stop it. There was nothing I could do to help him; I felt so helpless! But I couldn’t let Tom win, either. The basilisk was dead… and we couldn’t let Tom come back. So I managed to tell the others to find the diary. While Harry was healing, Neville found it and I stabbed it with the fang I’d pulled out of Harry… I was so upset, I wanted Tom  _ gone _ for what he’d done to us...”

“I’m so sorry,” Harry said thickly, the only one who wasn’t outright crying. “I didn’t mean for all of it to happen. I thought Lockhart would find the other teachers looking for Ron… I’ll accept whatever punishment you have for me.”

George shook his head, tears still wetting his cheeks unashamedly. “There’s nothing to punish, Harry,” he said, voice heavy with emotion but still clear enough to understand. “You were betrayed by someone you should have been able to trust. You were forced into a situation beyond your abilities, and you did the best you could.”

“Thank God you weren’t alone, and you didn’t die, Harry,” Jean said in a low tone, squeezing Harry tighter.

“I’m never alone at Hogwarts,” Harry said softly. “Thanks to the AA and Hermione’s communication coins. We were able to put out the call for help. It was actually pretty interesting, going back into the Chamber.”

“You went  _ back _ ?” Jean asked, shocked out of her tears. “Why in the world would you do that?”

“Professor Snape wanted to harvest potions ingredients, and record length, weight and everything. It’s officially the largest basilisk ever recorded by 150 feet. It was 212 feet and about 8,000 pounds.” 

“Plus, it was a part of Hogwarts hidden for over a thousand years,” Hermione added, finally calming down. Though she still wasn’t over what had happened, she was starting to calm down faster afterwards. “People are going to want to see it, so the professors need to make sure it’s safe first. And so that nothing else can take up residence there to hurt students later.”

George and Jean both had paled. “That’s a very large snake,” Jean said faintly.

“We should call Remus,” George noted. “He’d know about this sort of thing. Plus, he’d love to see the kids.”

“I’ll floo him and tell him to come to supper,” Jean said. “George, why don’t you order for everyone and we can pick it up before he gets here.”

Harry remembered Draco and Blaise explaining floo powder and how it was like a telephone that you could also walk through if you had permission. They had given him tips on how to go through without breathing in any ash. However, no matter how many times he’d been talked through it, it was fascinating to watch Jean light a fire in the fireplace - the Grangers had one of those new ones where you flipped a switch and it lit - grab the little pot of powder and throw a pinch on the flames. The fire went green. “Lupin Cottage,” Jean said, loud and clear. 

Jean then took a sheet of paper from the mantel, wrote something down, and tossed the paper through the flames. A second later, Remus’ head popped through the flames. “Hello,” Remus said. He spotted Harry and Hermione and his grin widened. “Welcome home.” The grin faded as he took in Hermione’s tear-streaked face.

“Evening Remus,” Jean said. “We were hoping you could join us for supper. We’re picking up fish and chips from the shop down the lane.”

Remus licked his lips, though his expression remained concerned. “I can come over in about half an hour,” he said. 

“See you soon,” Jean agreed.

“Mummy, we’re going upstairs to wash up a bit,” Hermione said when her mother was done. “We’ll be back down soon.”

“Of course, honey,” Jean replied, nodding.

Hermione pulled Harry up the stairs with her. He sat on the edge of the tub as she washed her face in cool water. “I’m sorry I keep getting so upset when we talk about this stuff,” she said after she was done.

Harry hugged his sister tightly. “It was traumatic for both of us. And you actually remember all of it. It’s okay, Mia.” Hermione clung to him for a long time, taking deep breaths. 

As they exited the bathroom, both children noticed that the hallway cupboard no longer had a door. The shelves were piled with neatly folded linens and a faint scent of lavender and soap lingered in the air. They traded a puzzled glance, then smiled at each other. Their parents had obviously decided to remove the possible fear of closed cupboards from Harry’s life. 

When they made it back downstairs, Jean was busy setting the table. Harry immediately went to help while Hermione found something relaxing to play on the stereo. Jean gave Harry a quick hug as he joined her. Not long after, Remus arrived. The first thing Harry noticed was that, much as he had shortly after meeting the Grangers, Remus looked… better. Less ragged and run-down, the weight on his shoulders a little lighter. The lines on his face didn’t seem quite as deep, and his eyes appeared brighter, less haunted. Only afterwards did Harry realize Remus had been sizing him up in much the same way.

“Both of you have grown,” Remus commented with a smile. “Though Harry, you’ve grown a little more. Understandable given the circumstances… anyway, how was your second year?”

“Way more complicated than we wanted it to be,” Harry replied, glancing at Jean. He had no idea what they were comfortable telling Remus, and he didn’t want to say too much.

“Defense Against the Dark Arts was a total waste of time this year,” Hermione said. “Though I’m sure you saw that in the Prophet. We learned nothing except how full of himself Lockhart is.”

“Yes, I read in the paper that he finally confessed to obliviating all those poor people for his books,” Remus said, frowning. “I’d be happy to bring over a book at roughly second year level and go over it with you this summer, if you’d like. I confess I’m a bit of a Defense aficionado.”

“That would make your father and I very happy,” Jean said to the children. From her wording and the way she looked at Harry as well as Hermione, they assumed Remus knew of their family status. Maybe not the magical part, but at least the Muggle. “I would prefer you know how to defend yourselves as best as possible given your ages.”

“We did have some private tutoring from other professors, and we did a lot of reading about Defense in the Library,” Hermione said. “But I think we’ll enjoy learning from you, too, Remus. You can make sure we didn’t get anything wrong.”

“I might have to take you back to my home for practice,” Remus said thoughtfully. “Let you actually cast the spells.”

“But the trace?” Harry asked curiously.

Remus smiled. “The trace doesn’t actually know who’s casting the spell, only that someone is using magic in the area. That’s why children from magical households tend to be a bit ahead of their muggle-born counterparts. Some parents let them practice once they get wands.”

“Makes sense,” Harry said proudly. “Though Hermione completely defies that norm.”

“You do too, Harry,” Hermione added. 

Harry shrugged. “We don’t actually know. The standings are a little messed up since they cancelled final exams for us.”

Remus opened his mouth to ask why when George stepped in, closing the door behind him. “Hello family,” he called. “Dinner is here!” He spotted Remus and smiled as he set everything down on the kitchen counter. “You lot discussing the basilisk?”

Remus went grey. “Basilisk? What basilisk?”

George grimaced. “Well, that answers that. Let’s dish up, and then we’ll give you the brief version for now.”

George and Jean made short work of retelling the story of the school term for Remus; glossing over some of the details in order to avoid upsetting Hermione or Harry again. By the time they’d finished, Remus was staring at the two of them with something akin to awe on his face.

“So, we’d hoped you’d be able to tell us more about basilisks, Remus,” Jean finished. “And perhaps other ways to deal with such creatures, should any of us ever be exposed to one again. Hopefully not, God willing, but with the war that we hear is coming… best to be prepared.”

“Well it’s impossible to predict which dark creatures you may encounter, especially with Harry and Hermione’s track record. Last year you saved the Philosopher’s Stone from You-Know-Who, right?” Harry nodded. “I suppose I could teach you basics of how to defend yourself from the things and creatures you’re most  _ likely _ to encounter. And I could certainly teach you about Dark Creatures. It’s something of a specialty of mine.”

Jean and George chuckled. “Just let us know if you plan to take them on a trip to a magical library,” George said with a smile. “We don’t mind, we just want to know where they are.”

“A magical library?” Hermione perked up immediately. “I would love to visit one!”

“In many cases, there are simply hidden magical sections in regular libraries,” Remus explained. “Much like the Leaky Cauldron, Muggles can’t see the hidden entry to the magical areas.”

“Really?” Hermione squealed. “That’s incredible.”

Remus chuckled at her excitement and nodded. “I will show you a few this summer and how to find them.”

“That sounds great,” Harry said, grinning. “Thanks Uncle Moony.”

“We’ll make some plans around your trip to France,” Remus grinned back. His expression turned wistful and he shook his head just a little. “You look so much like your father, Harry. Your birth-father, I mean. James.”

“You still miss him,” Harry said quietly, his expression turning solemn.

“I expect I always will,” Remus replied. “You don’t just forget friends like that. He… I… need to tell you and your sister something… I’m a werewolf.” Harry and Hermione stared. “Your father found out when he was about your age. I thought he was going to make me leave the dorm room, but instead of doing that, he did everything in his power to help me.”

“Is there anything  _ we _ can do to help?” Harry asked after a moment of thought.

“We know we can’t be James and your other friends, but if we can help… we’d like to,” Hermione added. Then she grinned at him. “Uncle Moony.”

Remus relaxed with a whoosh of breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Jean smirked and George chuckled. “We told you they’d be fine with it, Remus,” George said. “The young can adapt to almost anything.”

Hermione shrugged. “If Mum and Dad think you’re safe for us to be around, and you’re the next best thing to Harry’s uncle… well, family takes care of each other. So we trust you.”

“You were my Dad’s friend. My ‘Uncle Mooey,’” Harry said softly. “How could I not accept you?”

Over dinner, Remus told them all stories about him and his friends at Hogwarts. Apparently they’d been a version of the Weasley twins called the Marauders. Remus had them all rolling in their seats with the stories. Harry was truly touched to hear stories about his father that made him real.

Eventually, Harry started yawning, nearly falling into his tea a couple times. Hermione wasn’t doing much better, and after a while George decided they should call it a night.

“You know you’re welcome back at any time,” George said as Jean gave Remus a hug good night.

“I know. And… I thank you. I don’t think you’ll ever quite understand what it means to me,” Remus said quietly.

“Take care of yourself. And floo, owl or call if you need anything,” Jean said.

“Yes, ma’am,” Remus answered ruefully; he definitely saw signs of Jean’s personality in her daughter, and he knew better than to argue with a woman who’d made up her mind. Jean and Lily had that in common, and he sometimes wondered if muggle families taught their girls to be more independent. He suspected Lily would’ve taken a shine to Jean in a heartbeat, if they’d ever met.

The first part of the summer passed quickly for Harry and Hermione. They did their chores, studied with Remus, went to swim and self-defense classes in the park, and worked on their summer assignments. Remus took them to a couple of libraries and museums to show them how to get into the Wizarding sections.

One morning, after Remus came over to stay with - or perhaps distract - Hermione, Jean and George got Harry up very early and took him to Diagon Alley to be at  Gringotts at opening. Dressed in a hoodie and football shorts, Harry looked every bit the disgruntled muggle-born kid who was still half-asleep. No one identified him. After all, Harry Potter only came to the Alley once a year at the end of the summer with his friends to buy his school things.

Jean confidently approached a goblin. “My apologies, are you available to assist us?”

The goblin blinked up at her for a moment. “Yes, of course. Thank you for asking. Most witches and wizards just demand that we assist them without asking if we were in the middle of something. How can I help?”

“Harry Potter would like to meet with someone about the contents of his account,” Jean said.

“Which one?” the goblin asked.

It was Jean’s turn to be surprised. “There’s more than one?”

“Well, there’s the educational fund vault that he has access to until he’s of age that contains enough gold to get him through his Hogwarts years, including all the necessary supplies and uniforms,” the goblin answered. “There are the family vaults, which he cannot yet access, and the business investments which we manage in trust until either he’s of age to make decisions of his own or to renew the contract we manage them under. Finally, there’s the philanthropic vault that uses fifty percent of the interest accrued in all of his other vaults for various charities.”

George considered the Goblin’s words. “I believe we should review the statements for all the accounts, if the account manager or managers would be available to meet. Harry was unaware he had multiple vaults, though we presume the Bank was unaware he lacked the knowledge, and so we absolve you of any responsibility for informing him.”

The Goblin bowed his head in acceptance. “That is… most polite of you,” he replied. “I will request the Goblin in charge of the Potter Accounts to meet with you shortly. He will need your wand and your key, Mr. Potter, to verify your identity.”

“Thank you,” Jean said. “May I ask his name? And please, do forgive us for not asking yours as well.”

The goblin bared his teeth in their equivalent of a grin. “The accounts are managed by Gashuth. You may call me Shignoth.”

“The names are surely memorable,” George replied. “I will apologize in advance if it takes me time to recognize individuals of your race.”

Shignoth rumbled a low laugh. “Given that few wizards and witches bother to get to know us individually at all, I think we can forgive any accidental misidentification.”

“Their loss, if they choose otherwise,” Jean said with an indignant sniff. Shignoth grinned again.

“One moment while I send Gashuth a message,” Shignoth said, returning to his professional demeanor.

Fairly shortly, the three of them were sitting in a small room, drinking tea and eating breakfast while Gashuth went over the numbers with them. Harry’s eyes went wider and wider as he realized that the Potters were a very old monied family. He did the conversion in his head, realizing that he was a multi-millionaire just based on the gold alone. He also had seats reserved for him on the boards of several magical corporations, Hogwarts, and the International Confederation of Wizards. His family’s donations to charity alone were hundreds of thousands of pounds a year. 

And then there were the physical properties. Potter Manor was on the Isle of Skye, but they had homes in France, Spain, Switzerland and, surprisingly, in Romania near the Dragon Preserve. The Preserve was one of the organizations he could be on the board for if he chose to take it. They owned a grouping of Wizarding townhomes in London, most of which had tenants but one or two were vacant in case of emergency.

There were also lists of magical antiques and works of art that were on loan to various galleries, museums, and magical libraries, including, Harry noted with huge eyes, a letter from the Hogwarts founders thanking one of his ancestors for a sizable donation that made up the majority of the start up costs necessary to start the school. He wondered if the same was true of all the Board members - that they’d donated to the start-up or renovation of the school.

“Now, then, Lord Potter,” Gashuth said, once they’d finished the overview. “I see from your wand scan that you have a bonded sister. You are aware that she has equal access to the family assets once she is of age and only you, as head of house, can deny her access to them, yes?”

Harry’s eyes went wide and he blinked in surprise. “I, um, yes, I understand that. But if you would, please, we do  _ not _ want that piece of news shared around. With anyone.”

Gashuth shrugged. “We do not meddle in the affairs of Wizards. We would like to register her wand scan at some point in the near future so she may access funds remotely as needed. Her access does include your schooling vault, though I can see that she has her own personal vault here as well.”

“That’s fine,” Harry said. “If she does need something, I’d rather she be able to get it. I’m aware that in general, she doesn’t need my money, but I would rather she’s covered in an emergency.”

Gashuth nodded. “Do you have any additional questions for me?”

“Can you please explain how to access the Potter properties?” Harry requested. Gashuth explained they were currently warded and accessible by the Potter magical signature and bloodline. They were able to take others through the wards with them, but only he and his sister could come and go freely. The wards could be modified, but it would take time and a visit from the Goblins’ warding team unless he wished to set up his own.

When the meeting wrapped up, they all stood and shook hands with Gashuth. “Thank you for your time, Gashuth. We appreciate it,” George said politely.

“I am always available to House Potter, its dependents and its guardians,” Gashuth said with a discreet wink. “It’s a pleasure to do business with those who appreciate the business done.”

“Your management thus far has been exemplary,” Jean said. “Our experience with Gringott’s may be limited, but we can indeed appreciate a job well done.”

As they got back in the car, George noticed Harry staring at the parchments that Gashuth had given him. It was no small wonder that Harry, who’d grown up without so much as two pence to rub together now had enough wealth for ten lifetimes. He didn’t often think of the Dursleys any more but in that moment he couldn’t help but imagine them finding out that Lily had married into money. How many times had Vernon described Harry’s birth father as a drunk on welfare? How many times had Vernon or Petunia complained how much Harry was a financial burden. It reminded him how lucky he was to have ended up with the Grangers. They had just taken him in without a second thought.

“You know this doesn’t change anything, right Harry?” George said softly, bringing him out of his thoughts. “You’re still our son. You still get an allowance. You still have chores you have to do.”

“It’s sweet of you to include Hermione in access to your school vaults, but it’s not your responsibility to pay for her education or your own. I think your tuition is probably automatically being sent by the bank, but the rest of it… we’ll handle it.” Jean added.

“I know,” Harry said quietly, trying to put his spinning thoughts into words. If only they’d slow down for a moment. “I just… I mean, Hermione and I don’t even have to have careers if we don’t want to. We could both keep busy just managing accounts and being involved in board meetings and charities. I’m not saying I don’t still want a career, but… even if I didn’t…”

“It’s a lot to take in,” George agreed. “Fortunately, you have a very competent and apparently also quite trustworthy account manager. You don’t need to worry about any of it until you’re done with school.”

“Also keep in mind that you should do what you love,” Jean advised. “If you love board meetings or charity work, you should go ahead and do it. If you don’t, find a career that you love. Many boards only meet a few times a year.”

Harry eventually put the parchments in his trunk and realized that he had four years before he even had to think about anything other than his studies. He and Hermione had a great time learning from Remus and Jean and George got him several maths books that would have been at his level had he still been in Muggle school - geometry, algebra, and statistics. Hermione studied them with him, and it was a novel thing for him to be helping her with schoolwork rather than the other way around.

The family’s trip to France was a lot of fun, too. They weren’t in the part of the country where the Potter property was, but the family decided they would make a separate trip to check up on it at some time in the future. Hermione wasn’t quite fluent, but she could get by in French, and Harry was picking it up rather quickly. The only shadow to fall on their holiday was an owl from Luna, finding them at their hotel. As promised, she’d owled them because her father had gone on another “business trip” and wouldn’t be back for likely at least two weeks.

Jean immediately detoured the family to the nearest branch of the French Ministry and requested the use of a Floo to call back to their home London. They had to jump through a few hurdles, but not too much later Remus’s head floated in the green flames.

“Jean? Aren’t you on holiday in France?” Remus asked, concerned.

“Yes. But we just got an owl from Luna. Remus… I know it’s a lot to ask, but would you..?” Jean had explained Luna’s situation to Remus over one of their tea times, so she knew he understood.

“Of course. Will she be comfortable in your house without you here? She doesn’t know me.”

“I think she’ll be okay,” Hermione spoke up from the background. “She’s often a little… prescient.”

“Very well. I shall go collect her now,” Remus agreed.

“Thank you, Remus. We’ll be home this weekend.”

Because Remus was house sitting and had a valid, non-magical driver's license, he had dropped them off at the train station, and was picking them up when they returned. Harry knew something was wrong the moment that he saw Remus. Harry opened his mouth to ask him what was going on and Remus hissed, “Not here.” Harry and Hermione both nodded. 

Thankfully it was a quick ride home, because as soon as the door to the house was closed, Remus turned to Jean and George. “There was a breakout from Azkaban.”

Jean froze. “No… not…” Remus nodded. “Hermione, please take Luna and go to your room,” Jean instructed.

Hermione’s eyebrows furrowed. “But Mum…”

“Hermione, please,” George said. “We will explain later, but right now we need to talk to Harry.”

Hermione gave Harry’s hand a squeeze and nodded. “Okay,” she conceded.

“Let’s… let’s sit,” George said, once Hermione and Luna were out of earshot.

Remus sat on an ottoman, directly across from Harry while Jean and George flanked him. “Harry, you know I’ve mentioned Sirius Black was your godfather and a member of the Marauders. You asked me previously why he wasn’t in your life and the truth is… the truth is that he betrayed your parents.”

Harry’s mouth went dry. “What? How?”

“When Voldemort was after your family, your parents took you into hiding. There’s a spell, a way to hide a secret inside a person. Once the spell is cast, you can only find a place if the secret keeper tells you. Sirius was your parents’ secret keeper.”

“And Voldemort found us…” Harry said quietly. “Black betrayed them to Voldemort.”

“Harry,” Jean said slowly.

“No, Mum, it’s… it’s okay,” Harry said, a little shaken but not overtly frightened. “He went to prison for his crimes, they’re going to catch him again. I don’t… I don’t care about Sirius Black.” Harry knew it was obvious he very much  _ did _ care about Sirius, but no one was going to press him.

“There’s more,” Remus said.

“Of course there is,” George said, sounding exhausted and worried.

Remus told them about how Peter Pettigrew cornered Sirius on a street full of muggles and in retaliation, Sirius blew up the street, killing Peter and twelve muggles. The only thing they found of Peter was a finger. “The current working theory is that he’s targeting Harry. The guards mentioned Sirius has talking in his sleep, saying ‘he’s at Hogwarts,’ over and over,” Remus explained. “The wards around this house haven’t been tampered with and there’s no accidental magic that has occurred, so unless that changes they’ve decided not to tell you anything until term starts.”

Jean rolled her eyes. “The people in your part of the world really like to keep people in the dark, don’t they? Especially when something involves them.”

“The Wizarding world is still in an era when children shall be seen and not heard,” Remus explained. “Children in our world aren’t really given any background information other than what’s necessary. I agree it’s not a great system, but I’m a third-class citizen, so my word has never carried any weight.”

“How do they plan on recapturing Black?” George asked.

“The guards are creatures known as dementors. They make you relive your worst memories. Most prisoners lose their sanity within a few years. What’s odd is that Black remained sane, even after twelve years. He seemed completely unaffected the last time the Minister visited the prison.”

Harry curled into himself and closed his eyes. He tried breathing slowly in and out, trying not to lose it. But at the same time… it was almost too much. Jean and George wrapped him in their arms, offering their support and their comfort. He leaned into them, trying to let Jean’s gentle touch on his back and George’s solid strength calm him down.

But he wished they hadn’t sent Hermione away. She always seemed to know exactly what he needed. It seemed as if he couldn’t breathe.

“Harry,” Remus’s voice broke though Harry’s swirling thoughts with the call of his name. “Harry, please, I need you to swallow this,” he said with firm insistence. He pried one of Harry’s hands away from his knees and pressed a vial into it.

Harry opened his eyes, but everything was blurry and indistinct. He fumbled with the vial until Jean took it from him, popped the cork, and held it to his lips for him. After swallowing, his vision cleared and his thoughts stopped running in circles. It was easier to breathe. But he was also tired, as if he’d run a very long way. He sagged against his parents.

“Better?” Remus asked. Harry nodded.

“What was that?” Jean asked curiously.

“Calming draught,” Remus replied. “It’s a relatively simple potion, but I brought one along… just in case.”

“So…” Harry paused to clear his throat, then asked, “What do we do now?”

“We keep on the lookout for strangers around the house,” George said. “Neither you, nor your sister, nor Luna are to go anywhere alone. Stay together if one of us isn’t with you.”

“We should do your school shopping early,” Jean said. “It should be easier to be wary without the crowds. We’ll also go mid-week, in the morning, when it’s emptiest.”

“And once you’re on the way back to school, you should be safer,” Remus added. “There are wards around Hogwarts, and the teachers there will be watching out for you too.”

“Okay,” Harry responded, agreeing to the rules set for his safety.

“One more thing; Sirius… is an animagus,” Remus said in a low voice. “His alternate form is a large, black dog. He’s often mistaken for a Grim by wizards and witches. So be wary of unfamiliar animals as well.”

“We have to tell Hermione,” Harry said next, still calm thanks to the potion.

“We will,” George said. “We just wanted to talk to you about this first, and privately. It affects you the most, and it’s up to you how much you want to share with others.”

“I don’t keep secrets from her,” Harry insisted. “I want her to know everything.”

Remus chuckled. “That may change as you get older. But that’s not a concern for the moment, if you’re sure.”

”I’m sure.” Honestly, how could he not share everything with Hermione? She couldn’t help him effectively if he were keeping secrets. She didn’t pry if he asked her not to, but she was just as protective of him as he was of her. She would need to know about his life being in danger, yet again. She’d hate it, but she’d want to know.

Harry frowned. “Why… why is this so hard?” he asked. “First year… Voldemort was trying to come back and he almost killed me, last year the same thing happened, and now the man who betrayed my parents to him is after me…” He’d gone from profound abuse to constantly having his life threatened by a megalomaniac. 

“I feel the same way,” Remus said. “Werewolves are lepers in the Wizarding world. I can’t find solid work, because I’m ‘sick’ all the time. I was an only child and my parents were always working so they could pay for possible cures. Most people didn’t want to touch me, let alone talk with me, but somehow I lucked out. Dumbledore let me come to Hogwarts, and I got three best friends who became my brothers. When James married, I got a sister-in-law, and then obviously a nephew… then in one night, half my family was dead, one was in prison and you were… somewhere I couldn’t follow. And then I was alone again. Back to square one.”

“And now you have us,” Jean said firmly. “Both of you. And we’re not going away, going to jail, going to put you in danger or write you off because of something done to you as a child. We’re not going anywhere, either of you.”

“Our offer stands, Remus. We could use an office administrator, and we can give you leave time given your situation. It’s muggle work, but the pounds can be exchanged for galleons,” George said.

“I… might not need it right now,” Remus said slowly. “But… if something happens… I will talk to you.” He sounded resigned; Harry assumed this was not a new topic of conversation for them.

“Does Dumbledore know where I am?” Harry asked. 

“Wards are fairly specific,” Remus explained. “Once they’re set up, the location isn’t listed, only whether it’s been breached. So unless someone told him…” Harry shook his head. “Then I would imagine not.”

“Are you going to tell him?” Harry asked. “I mean, he can’t do anything. This is my family, both legally and magically. I just… I’m afraid he’ll try.”

Remus shook his head. “Remus isn’t going to tell him anything,” he said with a private smirk. “Professor Lupin, on the other hand, doesn’t know anything.”

“Excuse me, Mum?” Hermione called from the top of the steps before Harry could respond to Remus. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but Luna and I are getting hungry and wondered about supper?”

“Mia!” Harry called out, latching onto the sound of her voice. “Please… come down…”

Hermione hurried down the stairs; Harry sounded confused and worried, and that was never good. She perched on the edge of the ottoman next to Remus and took Harry’s hand. “I’m here, little brother. You okay?”

Jean and George exchanged a glance over Harry’s head; Hermione notoriously hated shortened versions of her name. That Harry used one and she accepted it told them much more than anyone else would have understood.

Remus caught sight of a wisp of blonde hair at the top of the steps and nodded towards Luna, catching Jean’s eye.

“Luna, honey, you can come down too. Would you like to help me start dinner?” Jean asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” Luna responded automatically.

Jean took Luna into the kitchen with her and Hermione moved into her Mum’s spot on the couch. Harry leaned into his sister, her presence calming him more than Remus’ potion had. “More threats against me, Mia,” Harry admitted in a low voice. “Uncle Moony told me that Sirius Black - my godfather  _ and _ the man who betrayed my parents to Voldemort - has broken out of Azkaban.”

“And just when I was hoping for a quiet third year,” Hermione said with a resigned sigh. “Tell me about it?”

Remus and George went back over what they’d told Harry, as well as the rules for safety for the rest of the summer. Neither child spoke until they’d finished. While Hermione was mulling over the information, Harry’s mind caught up and he looked at Remus. “You said Professor Lupin earlier. Does that mean you’re going to be teaching this year?”

Remus smiled and nodded. “You’re looking at your new DADA Professor.”

Hermione grinned. “That’s excellent! We’ll have another professor we can turn to for help. And we should actually learn something this year!”

Remus chuckled. “I’ll definitely see to that. What electives did you pick for this term?”

“We both chose Care of Magical Creatures, Arithmancy, and Ancient Runes,” Harry said. “We’ve been reliably informed that Muggle Studies is so far behind actual history that it’s ridiculous, and Divination is a waste of time if you don’t have the gift for it.”

“Are your friends enjoying the textbooks you took back after Christmas?” George asked.

“Oh, yes! They think it’s fascinating. They have no idea how the Wizarding world has missed so many advancements among Muggles. I wish I could figure out a way to protect some of our basic tools to show them. Imagine, taking a calculator or a walkman to school with us!”

“Draco would go ballistic over the idea of watching quidditch games on television,” Harry said with a very small smile. “Maybe we should take him to the cinema when we sneak him, Theo, and Blaise into the muggle world.”

“Draco, Theo, and Blaise?” Remus asked. “Those names sound familiar.”

“Draco Malfoy, Theo Nott, and Blaise Zabini,” Hermione confirmed. “Plus Marcus Flint and his half-sister, Adella Campbell.”

Remus frowned in concern. “Those are Death Eater’s children,” he noted cautiously. “Are you sure…”

“They’re also children from abusive homes,” Harry replied firmly.

“We’ve put a secret little group together at school, sort of a support-slash-self-help group for students from abusive or neglectful homes,” Hermione explained more fully. “The purebloods… well, their idea of discipline is positively medieval. Since we’ve become friends… now they know they have a choice. They don’t have to be like their fathers.”

“Only two professors know, and Dumbledore isn’t one of them,” Harry said quickly. “But they know at least parts of the truth about Hermione and I. We trust them, and we know we’re safe doing so.”

“Especially Professor Snape,” Hermione agreed. “He knows everything, and he’s been super helpful.”

“He even let you cry on his shoulder after you had to tell everyone about what happened to me in the Chamber,” Harry teased very lightly.

“ _ Snape? _ ” Remus stuttered. “Severus Snape? The awful git who turned on Lily?”

Harry shook his head. “He made a mistake in a moment of anger. I don’t know much about it, but I do know he regrets it.”

“But Snape  _ is _ a Death Eater!” Remus protested.

“If he is, he’s done a really bad job of it. He’s been alone with me plenty of times, but I’m still alive and well,” Harry countered. “Plus, he’s one of the professors supplementing our education with extra lessons and skills to defend ourselves. Hermione and I both.”

While getting dinner prepped, the group talked about various news they’d heard. “The Weasleys all went to Egypt,” Harry said. “The twins said it was fun to go on vacation without Ron around. And apparently, Percy gained a bit of a sense of humor over the summer. The twins tried to shut him in a tomb so Percy changed the sugar in their sweets to salt.”

“Where was Ron?” George asked.

“They sent him to Romania, to Charlie, as a punishment this summer,” Hermione said. “They’re hoping several weeks of actual hard work might get through his thick head.”

“Ron deserved worse, based on what he said,” Luna said. 

Remus looked curious. “Ron told Harry that his recent change in behavior and increased maturity were because I had bewitched him, and that I should stick to housework spells rather than researching dangerous animals,” Hermione explained. “The entire school shut him out when he didn’t stop and he ended up getting possessed by Voldemort.”

“And he still won’t apologize,” Harry said angrily. “Said he wouldn’t apologize for defending the person I used to be. He said Hermione  _ changed _ me somehow; as if I were weak-willed enough to let someone else dictate what kind of person I am. I told him that I changed myself, and it’s not Hermione’s fault I want to be a better person. He just got angry again and basically said I’d regret it.”

Hermione took Harry’s hand comfortingly. “Who would’ve thought, after most of a year of friendship, Draco Malfoy turns out to be a better friend than Ron Weasley,” she said lightly, trying to dispel some of his anger.

“They say that strife and challenge shows you who your friends really are,” Luna commented airily. 

“Draco was a bit of a bully our first year,” Harry explained to Remus. “Now he’s explained his upbringing and the beliefs he was taught as a child, I understand him better. And he’s learning that his father’s way isn’t the only way. He’s actually really nice, and can be fun to be around. We have a rather friendly rivalry going, being Seekers for our House teams.”

“You’ve made your house team already?” Remus asked. “Merlin, James didn’t make it until about third year.”

“I made it my first year,” Harry said. “Draco was teasing Neville Longbottom and chucked Neville’s remembrall from fifty feet up while we were unsupervised. I caught it a few inches from the ground, first time on a broom.”

“Youngest Seeker in a century,” Hermione added. “First years aren’t supposed to own broomsticks, but the team really needed a Seeker and Harry’s a natural, so Professor Dumbledore made an exception for him.”

“That’s quite impressive, Harry,” Remus said. “I’m proud of you. James would be too.”

Harry beamed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to Hogwarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to our readers for your constant support. We write for us, we post for you. :)

**Chapter 2**

Early school shopping did, indeed, allow them to avoid the crush of students and families. Their first stop was Gringott’s, where Jean and George exchanged pounds for galleons, and also registered Hermione’s wand as Gashuth had requested. An updated statement of accounts was provided to Harry to review at home.

Hermione also owled Fred and George Weasley, sending her regrets that she had family staying with them and would need to be home to spend the last week or two of the hols with them. But she - and Harry, though it was left implied in the letter - looked forward to seeing them on the first of September.

In late August, they had Harry’s birthday dinner. They’d celebrated while they were in France, but since Remus hadn’t been there, they had a second celebration now that everyone was together. Harry was still unused to even just one celebration, so he felt a bit overwhelmed by it all. Especially when Luna told him Remus had taken her shopping for a gift for him. Harry made a mental note to be sure they got Luna something for her birthday in turn.

Luna returned home a week later, when her father Floo called to say he was back in-country. She left with a flurry of goodbye hugs and promises to meet up on the train to school. George went with her, intent upon having a friendly, father-to-father-of-a-daughter chat with Mr. Lovegood about leaving an eleven-year-old home alone for days or weeks at a time. And to issue the invitation that Luna was welcome to stay with them, should he need to be out of the country in the future. He returned home with a small but satisfied smile.

The first of September arrived without fanfare, and Remus once again joined Jean and George in seeing Harry and Hermione off to school. Harry hugged Remus tightly after hugging his parents. Even though Remus would be at Hogwarts this year, Harry was still going to miss spending time with him and learning about his parents. When Luna and her father arrived, Luna dashed over to George to give him a hug and whisper words of thanks. Then she hugged Hermione tightly, whispering, “I don’t know what your Dad said to Daddy, but… I think it’s making a difference. He was more… here… this past week.”

“I’m happy for you, Luna,” Hermione whispered back before they parted. “Both of you.”

The Weasleys descended upon the family in a sea of red hair and lively banter. Everyone was tan and full of stories. Percy made Head Boy; Harry and Hermione both congratulated him on the achievement. The twins teased Percy incessantly about it, but Percy now seemed to understand that the twins only teased because they loved him. They were flat out ignoring Ron, for example, and whatever they did to Percy they changed back once everyone had a laugh.

Remus surprised them by informing them he was traveling by train as well, due to Sirius’ escape, so Harry, Hermione, Luna, and Neville settled into a compartment with him and read books on the journey to Hogwarts. Harry was re-reading  _ The Lord of the Rings _ and was just getting to the point where Frodo and his friends were trapped in the Barrow-downs when the train came to a stop. Harry looked up in confusion. “We’re not there yet, are we?” he asked curiously.

“We can’t be,” Hermione said. “Maybe something’s wrong with the train?”

Remus stood up. “The Express runs on magic,” he explained. “Causing it to stop would require major spellwork from a powerful wizard…”

Luna paled, curling into herself. “They’re here,” she said softly. “They’re searching the train for him... “

“Luna?” Hermione asked. Being the closest one to the younger girl, she pulled Luna into her arms in comfort.

“The Dementors are coming…” Luna breathed. Harry noticed, as Luna spoke, the window began to ice over and the air became cold. The compartment door opened and Harry felt like the temperature inside him had plummeted. A hooded creature that stood on the threshold of the compartment seemed to lean towards him and Harry started to feel dizzy. He closed his eyes, which ended up being a mistake. Someone was screaming.  _ Please. Not Harry. Kill me instead. Not Harry! _ Then everything went dark.

Hermione and Luna huddled together, each lost in their own terrible memories. Luna witnessed again the death of her mother, the accidental explosion of an experiment, and was once again helpless to stop it. Hermione re-lived those moments of terror with Harry dying in her arms, and she clutched Luna, murmuring, “No, no, please, no…”

Remus saw Harry passed out and Neville, Hermione, and Luna were reliving their worst memories, and shot a patronus out of his wand. The Dementor scurried away. Remus then immediately turned his attentions on Harry; Hermione, clearly still shaken, noticed Harry too. “Oh,” she said in a soft voice.

“Help me lay him on the floor,” Remus told Hermione, checking Harry’s pulse and his breathing. 

Hermione and Remus laid Harry on the ground instead of him being slumped over in his seat. Hermione sat on the floor, his head resting on her knees. Her hands trembled as she gently stroked his hair, trying to block out the images so recently relived in her own mind. Occasionally, she’d put a hand on Harry’s chest just to reassure herself that his heart was still beating. Luna and Neville sat together on one of the seats, clinging to each other with pale faces.

After a few moments, Harry began to stir. “Who was screaming?” Harry asked quietly. 

Hermione blinked. “No one was screaming, Harry,” she informed Harry. “What did you hear?”

Remus was unwrapping a huge bar of chocolate from his bag and breaking off large pieces. Harry didn’t really feel like sharing once he put together the only person it  _ could _ be. They were the last words Lily Potter ever spoke… Harry felt sick, and not because of the Dementor. Remus handed Harry the chocolate, and Harry held it, processing.

Hermione also held her piece of chocolate thoughtfully, taking only a tiny nibble at first. The oddest thought struck her, that if Ron had been there his piece of chocolate would be gone already. Neville was taking larger bites, and urging Luna to do the same.

“Eat it Harry, Hermione,” Remus said gently. “It will help.”

Recalled to herself, Hermione took a larger bite. When Harry didn’t, she broke off a piece of her own chocolate and pushed it between his lips. He blinked at her dumbly, but obediently chewed and swallowed. It really did help.

Remus conjured a thick blanket as the train car started moving again, took the chocolate out of Harry’s hand and transfigured it into a mug of hot chocolate. “Harry,” Remus said softly. “Talk to me.”

“She begged him to kill her instead,” Harry said thickly, his eyes welling up with tears. It took a moment for Hermione to put it together. Harry had heard his birth mother’s final moments. 

Remus seemed to understand. He nodded. He sat down next to Harry. “She loved you, Harry,” Remus said. “She loved you enough to hide for you, to spend her days hidden away to keep you safe. And at the last, she loved you enough to die for you. To use her life and her magic to keep you safe.”

Finally, Harry took a sip of the hot chocolate, then another. Remus nodded, standing. “I need to have a word with the conductor. Watch over each other.”

“Always,” Neville assured him on his way out the door.

When it was just the four of them, Neville and Luna transfigured their school robes into overstuffed pillows and the four of them huddled together on the floor, under the blanket Remus had made Harry. Hermione felt rather concerned that Harry still felt very clammy, but she held his hand. They were alive, and having physical contact with Harry helped her get over the effects of the Dementor. “Maybe we can convince McGonagall to let you floo Mum,” Hermione said to Harry, both reminding Harry that he had a mum and that Hermione might not totally understand what Harry was going through.

Harry gave a small smile. “She does give really good hugs,” Harry admitted, a small smile on his lips. “I just… I miss her… and James. Even though I don’t really remember them, I… I miss them.”

“It’s okay that you do, Harry,” Hermione assured him.

Luna shifted around to rest her head in Harry’s lap. “I remember when my Mum died. It all happened so fast… and then suddenly, she was just… gone. I miss her. I think I’ll always miss her. But she’s still here.” Luna rested a hand on her heart.

“You carry part of your parents within you, Harry,” Neville added. “I know I do.” Harry looked at Neville in confusion. Neville had never really told them what had happened to his parents. “My parents… they were tortured to insanity with the Cruciatus curse by three Death Eaters who were after me. My parents hid me and refused to tell the Death Eaters where I was. They’re alive but they’re at Saint Mungo’s. I’m… I’m not honestly sure they’re better off that way. They don’t… don’t know me at all. Mum gives me empty bubble gum wrappers every time I visit.”

“Trapped in their own minds,” Luna said in a hushed tone. “I hope… I hope they found a pleasant escape there.”

Harry gave Neville a look of deep understanding. They were two sides of the same coin. “I’m sorry,” Harry said. 

“I’m sorry too,” Neville said. 

The train started moving again and they all sat in awkward silence. Remus came back and felt Harry’s face. “Good,” he said. “You aren’t clammy any more. We’re going to be at Hogwarts in about half an hour, so you all should get changed.”

It was a greatly subdued group of students who departed the train at Hogsmeade. Remus saw Harry, Hermione, Luna and Neville onto one of the carriages, then hurried away - presumably to report in at the school. Hermione watched curiously as Luna leaned over and apparently patted the empty air in front of their carriage as it began to move.

“What are you doing, Luna?” she asked.

“Petting the thestral, of course,” Luna replied. “They might look scary or evil, but they’re really not. They’re quite patient animals.”

Hermione blinked, then realized all three of her companions were seeing a creature she could not. Harry looked a little leery, but Neville just nodded agreement with Luna’s assessment. “They just get associated with death because in order to see them, you have to have seen someone die,” Neville explained.

“In that case, I wish them well but I’m sorry you have all been through something that allows you to see them,” Hermione replied softly. She was about to ask Harry who he’d seen die, when she remembered - he’d been forced to kill Quirrell. And that was assuming Lily Potter didn’t count.

Unsurprisingly, conversation during the Welcome Feast centered on Harry again. Only this time there was more concern, because Sirius Black was a known mass-murderer who probably wouldn’t care who was between him and Harry. Harry and Hermione ignored it all, though, asking Fred and George Weasley to tell them more about their time in Egypt and in return telling them about France.

During Dumbledore’s start of term announcements, it was announced that Hagrid was their new Professor for Care of Magical Creatures, which the entire school had cheered about, save Draco and his friends who clapped politely as any good pureblood would do. Dumbledore then announced that Remus was going to be their new Defense Professor and Harry and Hermione clearly clapped the loudest, followed by Neville and Luna.

“He was in our train compartment,” Neville explained when their housemates shot curious glances at them. “He saved us from the dementor.”

The feast was the same as it always was - lots of food and catching up with friends with what they did that summer. Oliver had spent the entire summer coming up with a new playbook for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Parvati and Padma Patil went to India to see family, Dean Thomas played football at some elite summer camp.

“We should scrimmage some time,” Harry suggested.

“You play football?” Dean asked, surprised.

“A little,” Harry said. “I grew up muggle after all.” Dean smiled at that.

The first day of classes dawned bright and early. Harry was rather excited to go to his three new classes. Hermione met him in the common room, equally excited, and they chatted about the advance reading they’d done on the way down to breakfast. They were particularly interested in Ancient Runes, since their book indicated that they could be incorporated into warded places to strengthen the wards.

It seemed the first year was a lot of vocabulary though, and luckily Hermione had found Wizard flashcards her first year which self-shuffled, hit you if you got the answer wrong, and cleared the questions and answers with a magic word after the exam. But before they built their vocabulary, Professor Babbling informed them they had to first learn runic structure. Professor Babbling assigned four pages of runic structure problem sets by Thursday, then dismissed them. Harry and Hermione then went to Transfiguration, discussing how enjoyable they anticipated the class to be.

They only stopped when a large group filed into class, all of them looking nervous at Harry. “What’s up guys,” Harry asked pointedly.

“Professor Trelawney said that she got a premonition this morning,” Neville explained. “She saw a Grim approaching you.”

Harry paused, remembering what Remus told him about Sirius. He forced a smile. “Considering how my last two years here went and the fact that Sirius Black just broke out of Azkaban, that’s not exactly a prediction,” Harry pointed out.

“Isn’t that just another superstition, anyway?” Hermione asked. “Rather like thestrals? There are some large dog breeds that can be black in coloring. Are they all harbingers of death?”

“It’s not a joking matter,” said Anthony Goldstein, a Ravenclaw in their year. “People who see the Grim almost always die. I mean, I don’t have empirical data or anything, but it’s more than half, probably more than seventy-five percent of the time. But you’re correct - if Trelawney thinks she saw a Grim, that doesn’t mean she saw a Grim.”

Professor McGonagall’s arrival cut off the discussion abruptly, as she ushered everyone into their seats and began the lesson. Hermione had always enjoyed transfiguration, and she hadn’t been lying the year before when she said she would consider an apprenticeship under McGonagall. Though at this point, she wondered if it was allowed to try for a double Mastery, like in muggle universities.

McGonagall was lecturing on Animal transfiguration and Animagi, and Harry got a fond look on his face as he took notes. Hermione glanced over and saw he’d written in the right-hand column ‘family legacy?’ Hermione wondered if McGonagall knew about the Marauders. They had all been in her House, after all, and the elder witch was nothing if not observant.

They started off small, turning mice into tea cups. Harry and Hermione got theirs done on the second try and were allowed to spend the rest of the time on their independent projects. They both re-read the section of their book on Animagi twice through, committing as much to memory as possible. “Do you think we should ask?” Hermione whispered to Harry when they’d finished.

“I want to. I really do,” Harry admitted. “I at least want to know if there’s a way to know your form. I think I should talk to Uncle M… I mean Professor Lupin first,”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Hermione agreed. “The book talks about meditating to find your form, but it doesn’t say what kind of meditation or how to go about it.”

“I suppose it’s not really meant to be a subject for third years,” Harry sighed.

“Neither is Occlumency,” Hermione replied in a whisper, glancing around to make sure no one could overhear. They’d spent the entire summer practicing their shields. Professor Snape had said the next step was to get attacked while they were feeling emotional and they had wanted to be ready.

After lunch, they attended Care of Magical Creatures, at which point Harry bowed to and rode a Hippogriff. It wasn’t exactly Harry’s favorite class, but he liked Hagrid and didn’t want to hurt his feelings. 

After class, rather than rushing to the AA room like they normally did, Harry and Hermione went to Professor Lupin’s office. He was sitting in there, setting a lesson plan, but he immediately perked up when he saw Harry and Hermione. ”Afternoon you two,” he greeted. “How was your first day back?”

“Hey Uncle Moony,” Harry greeted. “Good, and yours?”

“Very good. It certainly brought me back to my Hogwarts days,” Remus said.

“We actually wanted to ask you something,” Hermione said. “Or, Harry needs to and I’m interested in the answer.”

Harry shifted his weight for a moment. “I was wondering if… if all of the Marauders became animagi? And why...”

Remus smiled. “It was your father’s idea, actually,” he explained. “As a way to assist me with what he described in public as my ‘furry little problem.’ They all studied to be animagi so I wouldn’t have to go it alone.”

“Really? What… what was my Dad’s form?” Harry asked. 

“Your father was a stag. And Wormtail was a rat.” Remus explained wistfully.

“How… how do you find out your form?” Harry asked curiously.

Remus looked at Harry suspiciously. “Just for the sake of curiosity?” Remus asked.

“Well, actually I… I was wondering if it was a kind of a legacy thing,” Harry said. 

Remus gave a heavy sigh and for a moment gained an expression that indicated he was thinking hard. “There’s a spell,” he admitted. “If you’d like to come and see me on Saturday I can teach it to you as long as you both promise not to teach it to your friends. If you’re going to do this, this isn’t for screwing around. I’m only even considering letting you given the fact that you’ve almost died twice since you came to Hogwarts and more danger might be coming.”

“We promise,” Harry said.

“Hermione? Would you like to learn?” Remus offered.

Hermione nodded, a little shyer about it. “Yes, please.”

“Hermione can never pass up a chance to learn something new,” Harry teased, grinning.

“Oh, you!” Hermione took a halfhearted swing at Harry, who nimbly dodged, laughing. She hadn’t really been aiming for him anyway, so it wasn’t that hard.

Remus chuckled at their antics. “Very well. Saturday at tea-time. That can be our excuse, should someone be looking for either of us.”

Harry and Hermione then went to the AA room to study. They were a little surprised to see the entire club, including Snape, there. When they entered, everyone looked up. “Hey,” Harry said. “How was everyone’s summer?”

“How was…” Draco started. “How was  _ our _ summer? Like everything’s normal?”

“Everything was normal,” Harry replied with a shrug. “We were in France and didn’t hear the news until we got back. We didn’t see anything or anyone before school started, and Hermione and I are trying to focus on school.”

“If we let him make us live in fear, he wins at least a little,” Hermione added. “Besides, I thought Hogwarts was the safest place in the Wizarding world?”

Snape snorted. “It is and it isn’t,” he replied. “Yes, here you have many friends and guardians all around you. But it is not impenetrable to those who know it well. And trust me, Black knows it better than almost anyone.”

Harry sighed. “We understand. Really, we do. But so far, I’m not allowed to go anywhere alone, and when - if - we get to go to Hogsmeade this year, I’m to stay in a group at all times, preferably within shouting distance of our adult escorts. So, how was everyone’s summer?”

“Everyone’s a little scared right now,” Cedric explained. “You’re not supposed to be able to escape from Azkaban and it’s more than possible that you aren’t the only target at Hogwarts.”

“He’s my Mum’s cousin,” Draco said.

“My Dad put him away,” Melody said.

“And he once swore revenge on my older brother,” Blaise said.

“I actually was curious about something,” Hermione said. “I’ve done a whole bunch of research on this, but I’ve noticed that nothing is ever said about the trial.”

“What trial?” Melody asked.

“The trial convicting Sirius Black of multiple counts of murder?” Hermione asked. 

“Oh,” Melody said. “There wasn’t one.”

Hermione froze. Harry looked… some combination of angry, scared, and upset. “What do you mean there wasn’t a trial.”

“Everyone knew he was the Potter’s Secret Keeper,” Marcus said shrugging. “The murder of Peter Pettigrew had witnesses, and Black said he had killed them, so it was as good as a confession.”

Hermione opened her mouth to protest and Harry shook his head. Draco was watching them. “What?” he asked.

Harry sighed. “Every time someone tells me something that they say is absolute, it turns out not to be the truth, it was just the perception within the Wizarding world,” Harry pointed out.

“And you can’t just send someone to jail for life without a trial!” Hermione protested. “You’re Wizards, for crying out loud. Use Veritaserum and it’s an open-and-shut case, but you have to at least hold the trial! What if someone lied? What if what ‘everyone knew’ was a false lead? That confession could have meant something else! I certainly wouldn’t be stupid enough to tell everyone who my Secret Keeper was!”

“Everyone found out after,” Snape said. “It wasn’t common knowledge then. Also… times were different then. People were still being attacked by Death Eaters and,” Snape flicked his eyes to Melody who nodded, then looked down and blushed. “Barty Crouch had just put his only son in Azkaban for being a Death Eater. At the time the only thing that could get you out of trouble was influence, and as he was disowned, Black had none.”

“None of it makes any sense, though,” Hermione mused. “A disowned pureblood, from an anti-muggle family, turning on his supposed best friends, betraying them to Voldemort? If he was disowned for not caring about blood purity, why would he have turned to Voldemort to begin with? How would that benefit him in any way? And now trying to kill his own godson?”

“People followed the Dark Lord for a great many reasons. Please remember that many in this room have admitted that they would have become followers simply to avoid the abuse their parents incur on a regular basis,” Snape said, and edge of warning in his voice for Hermione to drop it.

“I think… we should really get back to discussing our summers. I brought you all some chocolates and books on muggle France,” Harry said, unloading things from his bag.

“What’s this,” Draco said, clearly grateful for the change of subject, and grabbing the Le Tour de France water bottle. 

“That’s a water bottle,” Harry said. Everyone looked at him blankly. “Muggles use it if they’re going out for a long time or if they’re going on a workout. I was thinking of figuring out a way to fix it onto my broom during practice.” 

Acceding to the change in topic, Hermione suggested, “Perhaps one of the bottle-holders they affix to bicycles? The bar on the bike would be roughly similar in diameter to your broom handle…”

Cedric and Draco both looked interested. “Bet we could duplicate it, then change it to advertise Quidditch teams,” Harry said. 

“I’ll ask Dad to mail us some photos so we can pass them on,” Hermione answered with a shake of her head.  _ Boys and their sports. _ While they were occupied, she turned to Blaise. “How was Italy?”

“Fine, if a little dull,” he responded. “Though family gatherings there tend to be a little more… lively.”

Theo chuckled. “I could’ve used a little dullness. It sounds rather nice. My father spent most of the summer ‘training’ me to follow  _ Him _ . Though he got rather quieter when… well, when the news hit.”

“My summer was quiet, as usual,” Luna chimed in. “Daddy spent most of it working. I did my homework and fed the fish in the creek. Cleaned the house and yard to get rid of gnomes and wrackspurts. Sometimes I’d see some of the Weasleys - their home isn’t too far away.”

“Oh, that reminds me!” Hermione exclaimed, catching everyone’s attention. “Do you all think you might be allowed to stay at Hogwarts for the winter hols this year?” Most of the group nodded, though there were a few shrugs. Then she turned to Snape. “Professor, is it possible to use the Floo to travel from here to my house over the holidays? I promised everyone a tour of Muggle London, and I thought it might be safer if we could make the trip when everyone’s supposed to be here.”

“It could be arranged,” Snape said, “however, they are minors. We would normally need approval and supervision for anything official. Given that the AA is a secret group, a secret outing would be okay given that you all promise to follow what Miss Granger and any supervisor says.”

“If you or Professor McGonagall is willing and able to supervise, I think we’d all have fun,” Hermione said slowly. “Or if you’re not available, perhaps Professor Lupin would join us. One or both of my parents might come along as well, but I would have to discuss it with them as well.”

Snape’s eyes narrowed. “And what, pray tell, have you told  _ Lupin _ ?” he demanded, his voice cold.

“Very little thus far, sir,” Harry responded. “But our parents trust him, and he spent a lot of the summer with us, while we were home. He has been teaching us more about Defense, even before he was offered the teaching position, because Lockhart taught us basically nothing.”

“I shall have to speak with Minerva, both about your outing and about…  _ his _ trustworthiness,” Snape said after a long silence. Harry stared at Snape. The rest of the room was tensely silent, watching the pair of them.

“Sir, can I speak to you alone?” Harry asked finally, barely blinking.

“Come to the corner,” Snape said, going to the corner of that room. Harry followed. Snape waved his wand and something separated them from the rest of the group. “They cannot hear us.”

“Sir,” Harry said, finally looking away, his cheeks coloring. “I don’t remember much about my parents, but I remember two things. My mother screaming for Voldemort to spare me and kill her instead, which I only remember because of the Dementor on the train.” Snape gasped, very slightly. The professor unthinkingly reached for Harry and Harry flinched back, drawing a concerned look from Hermione. “The other think I remember is my Uncle Mooey and Uncle Pafoo,” Harry continued. He sighed heavily. “When I was at… when I was  _ there _ , growing up, I thought it was something I just made up, and then Remus came into my life and it turns out the stories that I told myself so I could fall asleep in the cupboard under the stairs were true.” 

Harry took a deep breath and braced himself. “I understand that you… weren’t on good terms with my father and his friends in school. I will understand if you and Professor Lupin will never be friends, but... he’s the closest thing I’m ever going to have to knowing my birth-parents. And I… I would like to think that as Hermione and I have learned to trust you, you have also learned to trust us at least somewhat. We do trust Professor Lupin. So do Mum and Dad. They’ve told him about our family, before we even got home from last term. He’s part of our family, and I don’t want to choose between people I… care about.”

Snape sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose briefly. When his eyes met Harry’s again, he nodded slowly. “I will not… force you to choose between myself and Lupin. I will do my best to be… civil… as long as he will do the same.”

“That’s all I’d hoped to ask for. Thank you, sir,” Harry replied, smiling in relief.

Snape looked him for a long moment. “I do not know what Lupin told you…” he started.

“Everything,” Harry said. “And I don’t care.”

Snape nodded. “I should not be surprised. You and Miss Granger seem to have no limit to the people you accept as friends.”

Harry shrugged. “My Uncle Vernon is a well-to-do business man in good standing with his work colleagues and neighbors,” Harry said. “I learned pretty early on that how the world sees people is often a lie.”

Snape nodded and lifted the privacy curtain. The group was debating what they wanted to see in the muggle world. Hermione was describing the Muggle space programs, trying to convince them that the Air and Space Museum was worth a visit, even if only for a few hours in the morning. Neville and Theo definitely looked intrigued. Draco was arguing that nothing could match a good broom, but he might be willing to concede that Muggles could have something that was as efficient if not as fun.

“Well, Muggles can’t apparate or portkey, obviously,” Hermione was saying. “But they do still travel the world, and they certainly don’t do it on foot or by boat!”

“I think you’ve convinced us,” Marcus said before Draco could continue the argument. “We’ll trust you and Harry to take us places that are interesting and that we’ll enjoy.” Hermione beamed at the obvious trust from the older boy.

Harry realized as he watched the group from a few steps away that Hermione’s bossy and know-it-all mannerisms toned down when in a group of people who trusted and/or respected her and her knowledge. He realized in a flash of insight that a lot of her habits were provoked by a need to prove herself, particularly in the magical world where the circumstances of her birth automatically made people see her as lesser. When she was comfortable that she was accepted, she relaxed considerably.

“Harry, what do you think we should do in the muggle world?” Adella asked. 

Harry considered his answer. “You might like watching a movie, if we have time.”

“Movie?” Cedric asked. “What’s that?”

Luna piped up, “It’s like a play, except it’s recorded like a picture so it’s exactly the same everywhere people watch it. And it can be shown in many places at the same time. They also are sometimes sold to watch at home. Hermione and Harry showed me one last New Year’s.”

“There are also live events you can watch,” Hermione said. “Sports, especially, are a popular thing for muggles to watch.”

“What kind of sports? They obviously don’t play Quidditch,” Melody asked curiously.

“There are a lot of different sports,” Harry said with a small grin. “Football, rugby, cricket, tennis, golf, hockey…” he trailed off, thinking.

“There are two major events that each happen every four years - so there’s one every two years, basically - called the Olympics, where athletes of every kind compete from all over the world,” Hermione chimed in. “Each nation selects a team from their best national competitors, and medals are awarded to the winner or winning team. The Summer Olympics have things like tennis, swimming, gymnastics, races of different lengths and all kinds of things. The Winter Olympics features ice skating races, figure skating, snowboarding, skiing, curling, bobsledding and many, many more events.”

The purebloods were looking at her with wide eyes, though Snape was smirking at her extensive description. “Think of it like the Quidditch World Cup, but for many sports all in one large gathering of events,” Snape put in, knowing neither Harry nor Hermione had likely experienced such a thing as yet.

“Can we see one of these… Olympics?” Blaise asked eagerly.

“Um…” Hermione did the mental math quickly. “There’s a Winter Olympics next year. The Summer Olympics was last year, so we’re in an off-year currently. I think my Mum recorded some of the diving and gymnastic events, though. She likes to watch them, even though Britain’s teams aren’t usually finalists.”

“Football is a bit like Quidditch,” Harry explained. “With only one ball and one goal at each end and no brooms… obviously. It’s lots of fun though. There’s a World Cup every four years too. And there are different sports in other countries.”

“It almost sounds like too much to consume at one time,” Cedric said in awe.

Harry nodded. “I could say the same about the Wizarding world. Anyone who’s muggle-born or muggle-raised is expectedly to instantly consume everything there is to know about the Wizarding world.” He looked at Draco. “That first conversation we had, I had found out my parents were a witch and wizards about twelve hours before. I didn’t know what Quidditch was, or what the Hogwarts houses were, but Hagrid and everyone else expected me to just  _ know _ .”

“I had almost a full year to read  _ Hogwarts: A History _ and a few other books, but even that wasn’t enough to really prepare me for going to school with kids who grew up in magical families. Our first trip to Diagon Alley felt like everything around us was quite crazy. A bit like being in Wonderland.”

Snape snorted. “Perhaps Muggle Studies should be a first year course, and those who were raised in muggle households should have Wizard Studies instead.”

Hermione blushed. “I actually suggested Wizard Studies for muggle-borns to Professor McGonagall last year.”

Draco, mockingly, drew himself up and conjured a chalkboard. “Wizard Studies is not the place for foolish wand waving or silly incantations,” he drawled. Snape raised one eyebrow as everyone laughed at Draco’s impression of Snape. 

“I wonder if it could be student-run,” Theo pondered. “Like a club, but mandatory. I mean, Hermione and Harry are giving us an excellent picture of what the muggle world is like, and it’s very different from what I was told growing up. Merlin, my father’s always going on about how muggles would rather murder you than shake your hand.”

“And we’ve watched how muggle influence causes Hermione to innovate,” Adella agreed. “Our coins… that’s not something I’d have ever thought of. You floo or owl someone if you want to talk. The ministry has flying memos, but the coins are instantaneous.”

“I’ve learned a lot about the Wizarding world in here as well,” Hermione countered readily, trying not to blush. “There’s a lot of stuff classes or books don’t cover. Stuff that everyone assumes is logical or that is so ingrained that people don’t think about it. Like what people think of as ‘dark’ and what isn’t. Which Pureblood families are prejudiced against non-purebloods and which aren’t. I mean, on one end you have men like your fathers, and on the other end there are families like the Weasleys. Harry’s parents were allowed to marry with the family blessing, so obviously the Potters didn’t care that Lily was muggle-born. But those of us from outside the system… we don’t know these things. Neither Harry nor I knew that half of Hogwarts was run by House-Elves until we met one and then looked it up.”

“I will run it by McGonagall, but it’s possible to start something next term,” Snape said. “On a trial basis.”

The AA settled into the afternoon of doing homework and discussing possible lesson plans. As always, the upper years offered whatever help they could to their younger friends, though most of them only needed help on particular subjects - like Neville in Potions and Draco in Herbology. It was still good for all of them. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of surprise parties and new truths.

Harry was shocked when he went back to the common room after dinner on Friday and there was a huge shout of “SURPRISE!” as he crawled through the entrance. Harry blinked and saw almost the entire house smiling at him, Hermione, and Neville. 

“What?” Neville asked.

“Don’t you remember?” Angelina asked. “We’re celebrating all the summer birthdays.”

“We decided not to fuss with gifts, because we didn’t know exactly whose birthdays we missed,” Katie added. “But everyone brought snacks and treats, so there’s plenty to go around!”

Hermione grinned at the stupefied look on Harry’s and Neville’s faces, and shoved them both forward with a hand on their lower backs. “Go on, it’s your party!” Hermione urged them. Katie, Angelina and Alicia grabbed the boys’ hands and tugged them over to the tables set up with a wide variety of snacks. Cakes, biscuits, punch, butterbeer, candy… it was a dentist’s nightmare but a teen’s pride and joy.

Hermione hung back a bit, watching as Harry, Neville and several other Gryffindor students were passed around the room and wished a Happy Birthday, however belated it might be. She was actually rather glad it wasn’t her in the center of all this chaos. She already had an AA birthday party looming over her; she didn’t think she could deal if her Housemates decided to throw her one too. Fortunately, not many people knew her birthday was coming up.

Harry had the same expression he had on his birthday with the family; a pleasant smile for everyone. He had confessed, just this past summer, that he’d never had a birthday with the Dursleys. They’d lavished Dudley with presents, but the only reason Harry knew his was because a teacher had told him during school at six years old. Harry naturally wasn’t about to share that with his dorm-mates, so was covering his true emotions, but Hermione knew the truth.

Oliver, at one point, cornered him and was excitedly talking about his plans for the team that year. Crookshanks had leapt into Harry’s lap, demanding to be petted. Eventually, Katie managed to distract Oliver and Hermione sat down next to Harry, Crookshanks settling between the pair of them. Just then, Ron came by and glared at them. “I don’t know how you could touch that thing,” he spat. “He’s been terrorizing Scabbers. He’s so traumatized he’s been biting off his fur all summer.”

Hermione looked skeptical. “How can my cat be terrorizing your rat when they’re nowhere near each other? Crooks has been home with us all summer long!” she defended her familiar.

“Isn’t he really old?” Harry asked. “Most rats really only live a few years…” Ron blushed. 

“Look, just… I’ll keep Scabbers in my dorm and you keep Crookshanks in yours, okay? I’m just… worried about him,” Ron admitted. 

Harry could see that Ron truly was worried about his pet. Hermione considered her answer. “I will, if you start being polite to us,” she conceded. “We don’t have to be friends again or anything, but you have to stop snapping at us and being all judgemental.”

Ron gave them a pained look before nodding. He didn’t stay, though, just wandered off again. Harry sighed.

“I know,” Hermione soothed him. “I miss having him as a friend too sometimes.”

“Yeah.” Harry was quietly thoughtful for a while. “I wonder why he would think Crooks was terrorizing his rat all summer, though. It’s not like we went over there with our pets or anything.”

“It’s very strange,” Harry said distantly. “I mean, I haven’t actually seen much of Scabbers since I moved out of the dorm.”

Hermione opened her mouth, but was interrupted by the twins. “Harry!” Fred exclaimed. 

“Man of the hour!” George declared. 

“Birthday Boy.”

“King of Gryffindor!”

“We have decided…”

“You are now old enough…”

“For us to teach you how to prank…”

“So we can pass along our legacy.” They each grabbed Harry and Hermione by the hand and hauled them off to a secluded corner of the common room. Their wands flashed with notice-me-not and silencing charms.

“So we are here to show you the secret of our success.” George whipped out a old, blank parchment. 

Harry looked at Fred and George blankly. “I don’t understand…” he said. 

“Get out your wand and touch it to the parchment. Introduce yourself.” 

Harry did so, “My name is Harry Potter,” he said, touching his wand to the parchment. 

Writing appeared.  _ Mr. Prongs would like to welcome Mr. Fawn to The Map. _ Harry’s eyes widened.

“Huh… It’s never done that before,” Fred said.

“Usually it teases the hell out of you first. And it doesn’t give you a nickname...”

More writing came.  _ Mr. Padfoot would like to thank Mr. Fawn personally. Mr. Prongs is now going to be impossible. _

_ Mr. Prongs thinks Mr. Padfoot is just jealous because Mr. Fawn is an excellent heir to Marauder Mayhem. _

_ Mr. Moony kindly asks Mr. Prongs and Mr. Padfoot to shut up so he can welcome Mr. Fawn to The Map. _

“ _ What the bloody hell is happening _ ?” George demanded. Harry and Hermione, meanwhile, were giggling. 

_ Mr. Prongs will never shut up about the fact that he has a son with Tigerlily and would ask that Mr. Fawn solemnly swear that he’s up to no good. _

The parchment then went blank.

“Seriously, did you know about this and spell it or something? How did you do that?” Fred asked. “I mean, it was  _ brilliant _ , but…”

Harry tried to suppress a smile but failed. “We didn’t do anything; we didn’t even know about it. I suspect it’s different just for us. I know Moony. You do too, by the way. I also knew Wormtail and Padfoot, because Prongs was my father.”

Both Fred and George stared at Harry. “Prongs was… seriously?”

Harry nodded. “James Potter and his friends were mischief makers here when they were our age. I didn’t know about this map, specifically, but it looks like after I was born they modified it specifically for me. Or maybe it’s charmed to recognize the family bond.”

“It might have been charmed by name,” George noted. “Normally it responds, it just insults you a bit. 

Giggling, Hermione touched her wand to the map. “Hello, I am Hermione Granger.”

_ Mr. Padfoot would request that you  _ **_stop_ ** _ doing that. Mr. Prongs is big-headed enough. Are there any Puppy Padfoots out there? _

_ Mr. Prongs laughs at the idea that Mr. Padfoot would settle down long enough to have children. _

_ Mr. Padfoot informs Mr. Prongs that apparently both his children are trouble enough. Perhaps worthy of the Marauders mantle. _

_ Mr. Moony wishes everyone would hush. Welcome, Miss Kitten, to The Map. Mr. Prongs and his Tigerlily must be very proud. _

_ Mr. Prongs wishes he could send hugs through The Map but surely Miss Kitten will find what she needs until she returns home. _

_ Mr. Padfoot huffs and requests that Miss Kitten solemnly swear that she is up to no good. _

The parchment went blank again, just like with Harry. Hermione had wide eyes over how complex the magic must be, but was still giggling at the antics of her brother’s father and friends.

Following the instructions, Hermione touched the paper again. “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

The map came to life, not only only showing the the room, but the entire castle  _ and _ every person in it. There were names all over the page, floating around as people moved. They spotted themselves, clustered together with the Weasley twins. The Common Room was kind of a muddle, because there were so many people in one place.

Perhaps that’s why Harry almost missed it. In awe of the magical map, he almost missed a name that shouldn’t be there. Harry paled when he saw it, grabbing the map off the table. He looked closer and poked his wand at it. For a moment, all the names, except one, moved. “I need to borrow this,” he said. Without waiting for and answer, he walked as casually as he could out of the common room. 

Hermione watched him quizzically, but shook her head as the twins rose to follow when she did. “Let me check on him,” she said lowly. The twins seemed reluctant, but she didn’t give them a chance to argue with her. She followed Harry into the hall. “Harry? Where are you going?” she asked. “What’s wrong?”

Harry shook his head. “I need to talk to Uncle Moony,” he whispered, showing her the parchment silently. 

Hermione stared when she saw the name that Harry had discovered. It wasn’t possible. No wonder he wanted to get to Uncle Moony so urgently. “Okay, Harry, he should still be in his office,” she said, clutching her brother’s free hand. 

Harry raced for Remus’ office, not caring that it was almost curfew, Hermione at his heels. Not caring about anything other than he’d seen a name of a dead man.

They burst into Remus’ office without knocking, nearly tumbling over one another in the doorway. The commotion was more than enough to catch Remus’ attention, and he looked up to see them enter. “Uncle Moony!” Harry called unnecessarily.

“Merlin, Harry. What’s the rush?” Remus asked, a hint of amusement in his tone.

Harry slammed the map onto his desk. “We saw Peter Pettigrew on this map,” he said.

Remus Lupin went ghost-white and sat down, hard, on his chair. “What?”

“The twins showed us this map, and when we tapped it we got personal welcomes from Mr. Moony, Mr. Padfoot and Mr. Prongs,” Hermione explained hurriedly. 

“Then we followed the directions and saw the map…” Harry continued. “And Peter Pettigrew was somehow in the Gryffindor common room with everyone else!”

Remus expertly flipped the map so the common room was showing. He pulled out his wand and poked the crowd. “Move please. Show Peter.”

The little dots moved out of the way, showing Peter in the center of the room. Very nearly on top of Ron Weasley. “Ron has a pet rat,” Harry said. “One that’s twelve years old.”

Remus looked horrified. “I’m a fool,” he murmured in a devastated tone. “They must have switched secret keepers… and Sirius went after Peter… bloody hell,  _ he’s at Hogwarts _ .”

Hermione gasped. “If Scabbers is really Pettigrew, no wonder he was upset all summer! Sirius could be after  _ him _ and not you! He’d be the only one who could prove Black’s innocence! I don’t know how Sirius would know he’s here, but...”

“He could just want to talk to me,” Harry said lowly. “He could want to explain… if it’s the truth… You said he was my Godfather?”

“I need you two to stay here,” Remus said, ignoring their questions for the moment.

“No!” Harry objected. “If… If Pettigrew was the one who betrayed my parents and framed Padfoot… I… it was his  _ fault _ . If not for him I would have… you would have been my family. You and Padfoot.”

“That is why I need you to stay, Harry. I promise you, once we have Pettigrew contained, we will bring him to my office, but I need to go get Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape so that we can secure Pettigrew.”

“I can call them and ask them to join you,” Hermione said quickly. “It’s much faster. They can meet you at the portrait?” she suggested, pulling out her AA coin. 

“You can what? Nevermind. Yes, call them. I’ll meet them there. And you two  _ stay put, _ ” Remus said firmly.

Hermione quickly sent the message,  _ Hades and Hecate needed urgently. Meet Lupin at the Fat Lady. -Athena _

She hoped the brief message would be enough to get a response. Fortunately, her coin warmed right away.  _ Agreed. - Hecate _

“Professor McGonagall is on her way,” Hermione told Remus in a rush.

Remus grabbed the map and made his way out of the office. Harry made as if to follow him, but Hermione held him back. “You’ll get your chance, Harry. You know he only wants to keep us safe.”

“He took everything away from me,” Harry said in a dead tone. “You have no idea how that feels.”

“You’re right. I don’t,” Hermione agreed. Her voice softened, turned almost wistful. “And I understand that if you could change the past, you would. Even if it meant losing me. I get that. But you’re stuck with the present as it is. He’ll be punished; you know that. He’ll be made to pay. It won’t fix things, but it’s a start.”

“Like my Uncle will pay for all he did to me? Or Draco’s father, for what he did to him? How could you possibly think there’s a guarantee Pettigrew will pay for what he did? Sirius went to prison without a trial, and it’s only because he escaped any of this is happening. The world isn’t fair, Hermione.”

“I know it’s not,” Hermione insisted. “But I know he’ll be made to pay because he has Uncle Moony and Professor McGonagall and us to press charges. The last scion of the Potters, their orphaned son. No one will ignore that, even if you’re still underage. Professor Snape said influence could make a trial happen or not happen; so we use the influence of the people we have available and we  _ make _ it happen!”

Harry shook his head, starting to pace nervously. Nearly an hour passed before the door banged open. Harry practically leapt forward, McGonagall and Snape were dragging an unconscious and bound man between them while Remus had his wand pointed at him. “Stay back,” Remus barked. He looked pretty destroyed by this discovery. McGonagall sent off a silvery thing from her wand. 

“I don’t understand how this could have happened,” McGonagall said. “Pettigrew was the tag-along. How could he have been a Death Eater? Black was the one who -”

“Minerva,” Snape snapped. “This isn’t the time.” He tilted his head towards Harry and Hermione.

McGonagall nodded stiffly. “Rennervate,” she said, and the man on the floor awoke.

“Remus, my old friend,” the rat-faced man simpered as his beady eyes focused on Remus. 

“You are no friend of mine,” Remus snarled. “Traitor.”

Pettigrew attempted to put on an expression of wide-eyed innocence. “Traitor? Me? No, no, I’ve never betrayed you.”

Remus made as if to lunge towards Pettigrew, but Snape caught his arm and held him back. “There are better ways of making him speak, Lupin,” Snape said in his coldest tone. Remus looked at Snape and Harry noticed a mutual respect pass between them. Remus nodded in agreement.

With a flick of Snape’s wand, Pettigrew’s mouth was forced open. He pulled a vial out of his pocket and placed a few drops on Pettigrew’s tongue before releasing him from the holding spell. “Now,” Snape said. “You will tell us what happened the night of October 31, 1981.”

Hermione clenched Harry’s hand tightly, though whether for Harry’s comfort or to help him keep his temper in check, she wasn’t sure. But at least they would finally know the truth.

“The Dark Lord called me, to see if my plan to manipulate Sirius Black to change the responsibility of Secret Keeper to me was successful. I revealed to him the Potters’ location and he left,” Peter said in monotone. Harry launched himself at Peter with a strangled shout. Remus caught him, both to resist attacking Peter himself and to keep Harry away from Peter. “I then returned home and packed what little I needed before I destroyed it so that it looked like Sirius Black had come looking for me.”

“How did you come about joining the Death Eaters?” Snape asked, his lip curling.

“Several Death Eaters kidnapped me not long after I graduated from Hogwarts and the Dark Lord threatened to kill me,” Peter said. “I freely joined instead.”

“Then you should have died,” Harry yelled, sobbing and pulling away from Remus.

“Harry,” Remus said. “Harry calm down.” Hermione was listening, though crying quietly at the same time, but Harry was losing his mind to overwhelming grief and rage. “Accio Calming Potion,” Remus said, catching the potion that flew from his desk drawer. He popped the cork and fed it to Harry. McGonagall looked guiltily at Harry and even Snape looked uncomfortable. One word from any of them would have saved him - and Sirius - from hell. 

Harry collapsed against Remus, calming to a point where he sat, crying silently. Hermione sat next to him and held his hand while Remus supported him. Hermione wished she had a quick way to reach her parents; it was likely they would need them when this was all finished.

Snape sneered down at Pettigrew, pointedly ignoring the crying teens. “So when Black found you?”

“We got into a duel. I knew I couldn’t beat him. The only one in school better at duelling than Sirius was James, so I caused an explosion with lots of collateral damage - and other deaths. I… cut off my own finger and used my animagus form to escape through the sewer system, so people would assume I died in the blast,” Pettigrew answered under the influence of the potion.

“Why?” Harry cried. “Why would you betray them all?”

“I didn’t want to die,” Pettigrew replied. “And I especially didn’t want to die alone and tortured.”

“You’re not going to get any answers out of him you’re going to like, Harry,” Remus said, disappointment in his voice. “He’s not Wormtail any more. Wormtail has been dead for a long time.”

“I hear there’s been some excitement tonight,” Dumbledore said cheerfully, appearing in the doorway to Remus’ office.

“We’ve found Peter Pettigrew,” McGonagall said angrily. “And he’s admitted to betraying the Potters as their Secret Keeper and framing Sirius Black.”

Dumbledore's smile dropped as he looked over the room, then strode over to the fire. Throwing a pinch of floo powder in, he shouted “Ministry of Magic, Minister’s office.” Dumbledore then stuck his head in the flames. After a minute, he extracted his head. “The Minister is on his way.”

Dumbledore nodded to McGonagall and she went over to check on her students. Harry was notably distraught, despite the calming potion. Tears ran unchecked down his face and though he leaned heavily on Remus, he clung to Hermione’s hand and arm. The girl herself was also still crying, though the tears were mostly not on her own behalf.

“Professor?” Hermione whispered when McGonagall was close enough.

“Yes, Miss Granger?” she replied in a low voice.

“It might… be helpful to Floo my parents. When the rest of this is settled,” Hermione whispered, her eyes darting to Harry.

McGonagall nodded slowly. “I shall see what can be done,” she promised in a low voice. Though usually aloof, she couldn’t help but reach out to her lion cubs. She stroked Hermione’s hair gently and patted Harry on the shoulder, offering what comfort she could.

Harry, meanwhile was conflicted. On one hand, his childhood had contributed to the AA. On the other… it would have been so much easier if someone had just stopped and questioned Sirius or given him a trial. He wanted to be in this room and he didn’t. He wanted the time back. He wanted to meet his Godfather. 

A few moments later, the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, stepped through the Floo, followed by a pair of Aurors. “Now, then, Dumbledore, what’s this all about?”

“It appears, Minister, that the wrong man may have been imprisoned for betraying the Potters and killing all those muggles.”

“What?” the Minister barked. “Of course not. Are you suggesting Black is innocent?”

“Either that or Peter Pettigrew, here, has had a miraculous recovery from death,” Snape drawled sarcastically with his signature scowl.

“Peter-” the Minister stopped short when he saw Peter sitting in the center of the room. “Merlin’s Beard…”

“Peter,” Dumbledore said gently. “How did you come about gaining the Dark Mark?” 

“I took it willingly,” Peter said bluntly. He then looked panic-stricken, the effects of the potion wearing off. 

“We can all give pensieve evidence of Mr. Pettigrew’s confession. He  _ was _ the Potters’ Secret Keeper,” McGonagall said sternly.

“This must. There must be a trial. We do not know if Black worked with Pettigrew… or if a memory charm was applied.”

“Oh  _ now _ there should be a trial?” Harry was standing, completely still, his voice deadly calm. “You didn’t think to give Sirius a trial? You just threw him in prison?”

“Young man, that particular event was before my time as Minister,” Fudge protested. “You cannot hold me accountable for the prior Minister’s failings. No, no, we will have a trial for Pettigrew.”

“We should get you two to bed anyway,” McGonagall said. 

McGonagall managed to manipulate Harry into the hallway, Hermione following. It took Harry a moment to realize they weren’t headed for the common room, but instead McGonagall’s office. Harry was very tired all of a sudden and would have preferred to go to bed. 

“It is getting late, Miss Granger. Perhaps you should make the call?” McGonagall suggested.

“Can they use the Floo even though they’re non-magical?”

“If someone magical comes along with them.”

So Hermione grabbed a pinch of Floo Powder, tossed it into the flames, and called out, “Granger Station.” She then walked through the flames.

Less than five minutes later, Hermione, Jean, and George stepped through the fireplace one after another. Jean took in Harry’s appearance and immediately went to wrap him in her arms. George gathered Hermione close, and she hugged him fiercely, hiding her face in his shirt for a moment.

“Professor McGonagall. Can you tell us what’s going on, please?” George asked. He looked down at Hermione and, when she nodded, released her to join Jean in hugging Harry.

“You know about Sirius Black?” McGonagall inquired. They nodded. “It appears he’s likely innocent. Mr. Potter and Miss Granger found Mr. Pettigrew hiding as a rat in Gryffindor tower. Though how they figured it out has yet to be told.”

“The Marauders made a map,” Hermione said carefully. “Of the school and everyone in it.”

Harry was half-asleep, held between Jean and George. 

“Remus’ friends?” Jean asked. “James and Sirius and Peter?”

Hermione nodded. “The Weasley twins had it. They were going to let us in on the secret, but when we activated it… we saw Pettigrew. He was supposed to be dead, so we took the map to Uncle Remus. We knew he’d be able to tell us if it was true or not.”

“Mr. Pettigrew admitted to framing Sirius Black for both his death and betraying the Potters. Obviously, it has been quite a shock for your children,” McGonagall continued. “But it’s unlikely for Black to be cleared of charges until the trial.”

“And Harry was obviously upset because he could have had a childhood if Sirius has been given a trial,” Jean said.

“And his family,” Hermione whispered. “If Pettigrew hadn’t given in when the Death Eaters threatened to kill him, if he’d just died… Harry’s parents would probably still be alive.”

“I think Harry should really get to bed,” George said. “He’s really out of it and this will keep until tomorrow.”

“Do you want to take them home?” McGonagall asked gently. “Normally I wouldn’t allow it, especially the first weekend of term, but under the circumstances… as long as they’re back by supper on Sunday, I’m sure I can give Albus an excuse where Harry is.”

Jean nodded. “I think we’ll take them home just this once,” she said. “Thank you for calling.”

“Of course,” McGonagall said. 

George moved to pick Hermione up, but she shook her head. “I can walk, Daddy. But I’m not so sure Harry can.”

“All right, sweetheart,” George replied. He took Harry from Jean and carried the unprotesting boy through the Floo. Hermione and Jean followed just after. “To bed with you both.” He headed for the bedrooms with Harry.

“Yes, Dad.” Hermione trudged up the stairs. She fully intended to change for bed and then go snuggle up with Harry. If there was ever a night ripe for nightmares…

Jean followed Hermione into her room. “How are you holding up, love?” she asked quietly.

With a shrug, Hermione turned to her mother. “I’m worried about Harry. And… I kinda feel a little guilty.”

“My darling girl, why do you feel guilty?”

“Because I know part of Harry wishes he could change the past so he can have his family back. But if he did that, he wouldn’t be part of ours anymore,” Hermione admitted. “We might not even be friends… And I know it’s terribly selfish of me, but I  _ like _ having him as my brother. An actual brother, and not just a friend close enough to be one.”

“And I love having him as a son,” Jean said. “But this is not about all of that. Harry has been through something very few people your age have been through. That level of loss and regret is understandable. It isn’t that he doesn’t love our life, but if the roles were reversed, and all you knew of us was what other people told you, you would wish to change things too.”

“I suppose,” Hermione said softly.

“He may not want to talk about this with us. It’s possible that he’ll only talk to Uncle Remus because he doesn’t want to make you feel this way. And also because none of us can really understand. Remus, at least, lost his family when Harry did. Even though he was an adult at the time, it’s probably going to be easier for them to talk about it.”

“That makes sense.” Hermione sighed. “I don’t like it, but it makes sense. And… it’s really up to Harry at this point.”

“Good girl,” Jean said, smiling at her daughter. “But you really do look like you need to sleep, now, darling.”

“I know. I’m gonna go change and then go in with Harry,” Hermione said.

“Why?”

“Nightmares,” Hermione said matter-of-factly. “I just want to be there, in case, you know?”

Harry was dreaming of motorcycles and a man with a barking laugh who could turn into a shaggy black dog at will. He dreamt of flying on a toy broomstick. When he woke up again, there were dried tears around his eyes. He wiped his eyes and put on his glasses, noticing it was early, but Jean was probably up. Hermione was curled up next to him; her hand had been on his shoulder until he moved. He decided not to wake her, though it made him smile a little that she was always there for him, even when he wanted to be alone.

He went down to to the kitchen and smiled when he saw Jean had already had his tea ready. “Morning,” he said with a small smile. 

“Morning,” Jean said.

He took a sip of tea and sighed. The weight was back. The feeling like the world was on his shoulders. He had felt hatred last night. He had wanted to kill Pettigrew. He didn’t know how he felt about that. 

“I understand that I’m probably not the person you want to talk to, son,” Jean said gently. “But if you want me to contact Remus for you, or call to see if your therapist can fit you in this weekend, just let me know. And, of course, George and I are always here if you do want to talk to us.”

“Is it bad that I don’t want to talk to you guys?” Harry asked.

“Not at all, darling boy,” Jean soothed him. “As much as we love you, this is a situation we cannot really understand. You want to share your thoughts with someone who does. And that’s a perfectly understandable choice.”

“I just… I don’t want you to think I’m not happy here,” Harry said in a rush. “But I can’t help but think about… if things had been different…”

“There’s nothing wrong with that, Harry. We understand.”

“I think… I mean if Uncle Moony isn’t busy… I mean…”

“Harry, Remus loves you just as much as we do. If you need him, I’m sure he will  _ make _ the time,” Jean assured him.

“What… what do you think will happen? If Sirius is exonerated, I mean.” 

“If that happens, our family grows by one more,” Jean replied smoothly. “But if he tries to take you from us…”

“I… don’t think I’d want him to,” Harry said softly.

“Then he’ll have a fight on his hands, because I will not let him take you if you want to stay,” Jean answered firmly.

“Thanks, Mum,” Harry murmured. He sniffed the air. “Cinnamon buns?” he asked.

“I figured you deserved a treat this morning,” Jean said.

“Hermione will be down as soon as she smells the cinnamon,” Harry commented with an odd sort of half-smile.

“You’re probably right,” Jean laughed. “You’ll both just have to clean your teeth after breakfast.”

“Did you know she stayed with me last night?” Harry asked tentatively.

“I did, yes. She said you both tend to sleep better when you’re not alone,” Jean answered. “And it’s fine with me if it makes you both more comfortable. Goodness knows you children have been through enough to have some pretty awful dreams at times.”

“Last year, after… after the basilisk… Fred and George and I had Hermione stay in our room at school. Girls can come into the boys’ dorms, but boys can’t get into the girls’ dorms. It’s weird. Anyway, she stayed with us that night, too. We got separate sheets and everything. It’s just easier to hear someone breathing.”

“I’m not worried about you two sleeping together, Harry,” Jean assured him. “You two are far too much like siblings to worry about you getting up to things you shouldn’t together. As far as easier to hear someone breathing… well, I have to say that after being married to George for fifteen years, I find it very strange to sleep alone on the rare occasions one of us is away from home overnight.”

“I used to prefer being alone,” Harry said quietly, looking down into his teacup. “Alone meant safe. But now… sometimes alone is scary or just sad. Can you keep a secret?”

“Sure,” Jean said.

“I’m glad you three don’t understand,” Harry said. “I’m glad you haven’t dealt with anything like this.”

Jean nodded. “That’s not a bad way to feel, Harry. If Hermione had experienced what you have, neither of you would be here because George and I wouldn’t be here. You’ve experienced a great deal of loss, and it’s okay to be happy to know other people haven’t had to share in it. Would you do something for me, though?”

“Yes,” Harry responded easily.

“I’d like you to keep Hermione’s feelings in mind as much as you can, please. She knows she can’t understand what you’re going through, though she’s trying her hardest to see it from your perspective. But she wants so much to be able to help you, to do anything she can to be there for you.”

Harry sighed heavily. “I… would prefer it if she didn’t try to understand some of the things I feel, and there are some things I really can’t explain.”

“Hermione will respect your privacy, and if she doesn’t for some reason you let me know and I’ll talk to her,” Jean promised. “All I’m really asking is that you be honest with her as much as you can. If you don’t want to talk about something, tell her. Just try not to push her away because of it, please?”

“I… I can try,” he said.

“Thank you. In the meantime, shall I invite Remus over for breakfast? And would you please go wake your sister, so she can be dressed if he decides to come?”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry has feels and Hermione feels guilty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your comments! We really enjoy getting every single one of them!

_‘Sirius Black: Framed Man?’_ was the headline of the _Daily Prophet_ Remus brought with him from Hogwarts, along with the truth behind what had happened. The Minister and several Aurors had questioned Pettigrew into the early morning hours and he was currently being held while a trial could be arranged. The DMLE had been ordered to go back over the evidence and witness statements. Sirius Black was now being searched for, but for corroboration rather than recapture, and the Dementors were cleared from the Hogwarts grounds.

The article detailed the holes in the case, the Potters’ and Sirius’ backgrounds as well as Pettigrew’s. Harry didn’t read any of it, and figured he wouldn’t be able to for a long time. Seeing Harry’s face, Jean decided to drive the conversation away from the events of the night before and asked Harry what he thought about the new subjects he was taking that year.

Mid-morning, Harry and Remus headed towards the park for some air. Both of them walked quietly for a long while. “I wanted to kill him,” Harry admitted, breaking the silence. “I wanted him to feel… everything I’ve felt over the last twelve years. It was the first time I’ve ever… felt hate.”

Remus nodded. “I can’t say I didn’t feel the same way,” he agreed. “The wolf is a part of me. He wanted… out… last night.”

“Really?” Harry asked.

Remus nodded. “My friends became animagi to be part of my pack. They spent nearly every minute with me since I was eleven, except full moons until they mastered the change. After they succeeded, we were always together. Then Lily joined up when she and James started dating, and after graduation we all lived together at your grandparents house, before they had to go into hiding, and you joined us... the wolf lost his entire pack in one night, because of what one pack member did. For someone to betray the pack like that… it’s an action that requires payment in blood,” he explained.

“It must have been hard… to both hold yourself back and me too.”

“Yes and no. To my wolf, you're my packmate’s pup and its instinct is to protect you. So, to some extent, you gave me something else to focus on.”

“I'm not sure if I should be grateful or sorry about that,” Harry said.

Remus smiled. “Your emotions are all over the place right now. It's understandable.”

“Does it… does it make me evil? Or Dark? To want Pettigrew to suffer?”

Remus shook his head decidedly. “Oh Harry, no!” he insisted. “It’s not evil to want Pettigrew to feel everything you’ve felt. You are allowed your feelings. Acting on those feelings isn’t usually a good idea, but neither of us acted on them last night.”

“But the Grangers… they don't really understand.”

“No, and maybe they never will. But they still accept us,” Remus acknowledged with a small smile. “And not understanding us won’t stop them from loving us and wanting to help.”

“Mum wants me to think of Hermione's feelings and try not to shut her out. But I'm not sure this is something I can or want to share with her.”

“You don’t have to share everything you’re feeling to avoid shutting her out,” Remus reassured him. “You just have to let her be there for you. Stay close to her when you don't want to be alone. Go to her when you just need a hug or a smile. Ask her to tell you about something when you need a distraction. Sometimes it's the little things that will help you back into the present. There were plenty of times when I was at Hogwarts that Padfoot or Prongs or I were dealing with something big. We never really talked to each other about it, but we were there for each other.”

“I… I hadn't thought of that. Those are things I think I can do.” Harry paused thoughtfully. “You know, I hadn't thought much about it, but the Map recognized Hermione, even though she used her own name. It knew she's my sister.”

Remus chuckled. “I figured that it would. We wanted the map to recognize our blood. And in the Wizarding world, a blood bond is no different than a flesh and blood sibling. I’m glad that you both at least got to see a bit of banter between Prongs and Pads.”

“Will it say the same things if we touch it again?”  Harry was rather eager to see his father’s personality again. He had so little of James, other than the fact that he looked like his father.

“Not word for word, but the basic essence would be there,” Remus disclosed. “The charms we laid in there allowed us to add our core personalities, a little like the Sorting Hat. If Professor Snape identified himself to the map, for example, it would likely insult him to the extreme.”

“Fred and George said it would usually tease or insult people,” Harry said thoughtfully. “They expected it would do the same for us, and wondered what we’d done to the map when instead we got banter and welcomes. But… it made us laugh, and I think sometimes we might need that. You know?”

“They say laughter is good for the soul. Though I am curious about what it said to Hermione,” Remus mused.

“Prongs gloated about having two kids, Padfoot wanted to know if he had children and complained it was going to go to Prongs’ head, stuff like that. Not too different from when I identified myself.”

Remus smiled, grief and pain in his eyes. “That sounds like them,” he croaked. “Padfoot was dating someone pretty seriously around the time that you were born, and he and Prongs were constantly arguing about who would have more children.”

“Uncle Moony? Do you… do you think Sirius will come back once he’s free?” Harry ventured. “Will he… will he still… want to be part of our lives?”

“If there’s anything left of the Sirius I knew after twelve years in Azkaban… yes, he will,” Remus managed to say. “He was… the Marauders were all the family either of us really had. Sirius would… would want that back if he could.” Remus sighed. “I would too, if I could,” he whispered. “Honestly, I don’t think he’ll try to take you away or anything. Sirius has never been the type to insist on a typical family.”

“That’s… that’s good. I’m… I’m happy with the Grangers. I wouldn’t want to lose that,” Harry admitted. “But… Mum said if he wants to be part of our family, he could. Like you are.”

“And I’m honored to be a part of your family, I hope you know that. Now, I believe your Mum wanted me to make sure we were back in time for lunch because she’s making all your favorites.”

Eventually, Harry and Hermione returned to Hogwarts. Remus made Harry promise to come to him any time he felt like he needed to talk. The Weasley twins wasted no time in pinning them down, demanding an explanation, but both Hermione and Harry were reticent. Harry didn’t want to talk about it, and Hermione knew that. Honestly, it would be difficult to explain without giving half of Harry’s family history as they knew it, and neither was in the mood to try.

Meanwhile, the _Daily Prophet_ was a daily source of information about Sirius Black, Pettigrew, and the upcoming trial. The Ministry was  no longer on the lookout for Sirius as a wanted man, but rather a witness to Pettigrew’s crimes. Remus began sending his copy of the _Prophet_ through his Floo to the Grangers, so they were kept up to date on Wizarding news as well.

On Tuesday, Harry was called to Dumbledore’s office after classes. He was met by two Aurors; one a tall, black easy-going man named Shacklebolt, and the other a wiry white man who had the look of an Inspector, named Dawlish. They questioned Harry about how he’d found Pettigrew and his version of events.

Harry was careful not to bring up the map. He informed them about Scabbers’ suspicious behavior since Sirius’ escape and how Crookshanks had acted slightly odd around him. Harry also noticed Scabbers was missing a toe and knew Pettigrew had lost a finger, so he shared the information with Remus.  It was essentially the same story they’d told to anyone not Remus, McGonagall or Snape.

After what felt like forever, they finally released him. Harry made himself walk sedately out the door; he really didn’t want to be there anymore, but it wouldn’t be a good idea to let the Aurors think he was afraid or had something to hide. The little voice in his head reminding him of that sounded an awful lot like Hermione, and Harry couldn’t help the small smile at the thought. It wasn’t the first time his inner voice had sounded like her.

He headed for the Library; he had homework to do, and he rather hoped to be left alone to do it. It turned out that Marcus and Adella were both in their private room, but Marcus was helping his sister with a project of her own and left Harry to himself after an initial greeting. That suited Harry just fine.

It took him until Thursday to realize that Hermione’s behavior was… off. She still sat beside him in classes and at meals, discussed homework and chatted with him and the people around them. They studied and went to classes together, often with Neville. She was still Hermione. But just something wasn’t quite right.

Thursday, during Defense class, Professor Lupin brought them a boggart, and had them practice the spell to banish a boggart, _Riddikulus_. Harry let Hermione in front of him as they lined up to make their fears funny. Harry thought about any way to make Voldemort funny, then realized that Voldemort wasn’t his greatest fear. Not even the Dementors made him afraid. Sure, they made him relive the worst moment of his life, but he was also learning more and more about his parents in real life. He swallowed as it hit him. The cupboard. Being alone again. Being told he was nothing, that no one wanted him. Being back there is what he feared most.

Most of the class had fears typical of students. Ron’s giant acromantula surprised no one who knew him. Neville’s was rather sad, though. It was his Gran, telling him she was disappointed in him and he’d never be the Longbottom his father was. Neville screwed up his courage and cast the spell; suddenly the Boggart turned into a mannequin clothed in the most garish and outdated clothes imaginable. It tried to speak, but its mouth didn’t move, and everyone chuckled at the sight.

Remus stopped the lesson before the line got all the way to Harry and Hermione at the back. Partly because he didn’t think the rest of the class handle the fears his cubs had, but also because he knew they’d be intensely personal and probably terrifying. He knew Harry had faced Voldemort his first year, and Hermione had re-lived Harry’s near-death not six months ago. So he had decided to work with them each privately with the Boggart, rather than in class. He held them after class with a silent look, then explained once everyone else had gone. Hermione was instantly relieved, while Harry looked a bit hurt.

“I don’t think your classmates are ready to see Voldemort. Or you dead, for that matter,” Remus explained. “They’re only thirteen, after all.”

“I didn’t think about Voldemort,” Harry admitted. “Or at least, I realized that wasn’t what I was most afraid of. I thought maybe it was dementors, since they affect me so much, but they also give me memories of my parents… no matter how horrible…”

“Did you think of something that you were more afraid of?” Remus asked. It was a leading question. Remus had a feeling he was going to regret it.

“After certain… incidents… during my childhood, I’d get locked in my cupboard for long stretches. The only meals I got were the free meals I got at school. I was supposed to stay in my cupboard, make no noise, and pretend that I didn’t exist. Going back to… that’s what I fear, more than anything.”

Remus wasted no time in embracing him. Hermione hadn’t joined in on the hug, standing awkwardly off to the side giving him a supportive smile. “You exist, Harry,” Remus whispered. “Legally, they can’t touch you anymore. And I’ll do anything in my power to prove to you that you’re loved.”

By Friday, Harry was starting to get thoroughly fed up with whatever was going on with Hermione. Still, their morning class wasn’t the time or place to bring it up. Afterwards, they adjourned to the Library for the AA meeting, and Harry resolved to say something to her then.

Hermione started the meeting as always and Draco talked a bit about how Sirius was his mother’s head of house and everyone in Slytherin’s reaction to the news. Once there was a lull in the conversation. Harry interjected. “Are you okay?”

Hermione blinked and looked at Harry. “Yeah, of course.” Everyone in the room recognized the tone in her voice. The ‘I’m fine, don’t worry about me,’ tone.

Harry gave her a suspicious look. “You’ve been acting oddly the last week. You don’t seem okay. You almost seem… you almost seem mad at me.”

Hermione shook her head vehemently. “I’m not mad at you, Harry. Not at all!” She bit her lip and looked away. “It’s just… well… Mum and Dad and Uncle Remus told me you would need some space for a while. I get it, I can’t understand what you’re going through,” she hurried on in a rush. “You don’t have to talk to me about it, and I’m not going to try to make you. You’re the one living through a traumatic event, and I have to let you handle it in your own way. I know you’ll come to me if you need me for something.”

She felt like slamming her head onto the table in front of her. She hadn’t meant to say all of that. She wondered if everyone in the room knew she was worried that Harry wouldn’t need her anymore for some reason.

Harry looked down guiltily. “It wasn’t that I couldn’t talk to you about it,” he mumbled. “I’m trying to protect you from it. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I’m sorry.” Harry went red, unwilling to look anyone in the eye.

“I don’t want you to worry about me, Harry. You have enough to deal with right now. I wish I could help, but I know I can’t,” Hermione replied in a low voice. “It’s not, it shouldn’t be, about me. Draco said it before; sometimes you need to put yourself first. And I’m glad you are; it shows this group _has_ been good for you.”

“It sounds like you’re insecure about where you stand with Harry and you’re afraid of Lupin and Black,” Draco told Hermione. “Adopted families are always ‘stand-ins’ for someone’s birth family, and now Harry has the possibility of being connected to his birth family.”

“You’ve always had an issue accepting the fact that people are choosing you, Hermione,” Marcus pointed out. “Harry’s not going to leave.”

“If it’s what would make him happiest, I wouldn’t argue,” Hermione whispered. “I only ever wanted him to be safe and happy. When I got my parents involved… it was because the Dursleys were terrible, and I couldn’t stand the idea of letting him go back to that. But it should be about what Harry wants from his life and not what I want.”

“Just… stop,” Harry snapped. He sighed. “Look, Hermione… I know you’re my big sister and… you’re a really great big sister. But there are going to be things that I have to talk to adults about, because people our age… people our age haven’t been through it. I don’t even talk about it with Neville and he has the closest experience.” Harry looked at the wall. “My parents loved me, and willed me to my Godfather, who loved me. They did everything in their power to make sure that I’d never end up with the Dursleys, because my mother knew they were terrible. And Pettigrew ripped that away from me, just because he was afraid of dying. He destroyed five lives in one night, because of something that almost everyone is afraid of.

“You fought for me, Hermione, when I needed you to the most, and I can never repay that. I’m not leaving our family just because my Godfather’s been freed. But you’re acting like I’m hurting you by wanting to _add_ to the family. You already have aunts and uncles. Why are two more so hard for you to deal with? Is it because they’re mine and not yours?”

“No!” Hermione almost shouted. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to stay calm. “No, that’s not it at all. I want you to have them, and I don’t even care if they decide they don’t like me at all.”

“Has Remus given _any_ indication that he doesn’t like you in the last year?” Harry cut in.

“No, though sometimes I’m not entirely sure if he trusts me. His life is complicated, and sometimes trust takes time. It’s okay.” Hermione paused a moment, blinking back tears before lifting her chin and summoning her Gryffindor bravery. “If you _must_ know, I feel terrible sometimes because even if you would want to change the past to save your parents, I _like_ having you as my brother. And if everything changed, you wouldn’t be anymore. And I hate that you had to suffer so much in order for you to be a part of my life and my family, but I wouldn’t change it because _I love you too much to want to lose my brother._ ”

“I wouldn’t change it either,” Harry said definatively. “I’m just… like I said, in some ways you’re my big sister, but in a lot of ways I’m going to protect you.” Harry walked to Hermione and embraced her. “I’m not leaving as long as I can help it. You’re Lord Potter’s sister, right?”

“So what I’m hearing is you don’t want to talk about Pettigrew?” Draco asked.

“Harry reacted… pretty violently,” Hermione divulged, sniffling a little as she tried to stifle the tears behind her eyes still. “I’ve never seen him that angry.”

“Really, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him angry,” Cedric added.

“I get angry,” Harry said. “I just learned early on in my life not to get openly emotional. And I’m usually not. Even if I’m terrified, I learned to ignore instinct to express it. Pettigrew was… different. Talking to Professor Lupin has helped because it happened to him too. He was my father’s brother and part of our family.”

“He still is,” Hermione pointed out. “Mum’s all but adopted him anyway. He was over just about every day over the summer, except when we were traveling.”

“He gained a new family, yes, but…”

“But you both still lost the first one,” Neville said with a sympathetic expression. “And then when it was just the two of you left, he had to watch you being taken away from him and sent to your aunt and uncle because of the blood wards.”

“Actually, he didn’t know where I was taken,” Harry answered with a sigh. “Just that he was told I would be safe. He told me if he’d known I was with the Dursleys, he’d have taken me himself and left the country. It was the...” He bit his tongue as Hermione shot him a look of warning. “There was some sort of legal issue that prevented him from taking me in.” Even if he trusted this group with his secrets, telling them it was anti-werewolf legislation that caused the problem was not a good plan.

“Whatever the reason, Professor Lupin had to watch you being taken away knowing you wouldn’t remember him or your family by the time you came to Hogwarts,” Neville pointed out.

“Except I did. I used to tell myself stories about the three of us while I was in my cupboard. I didn’t remember they were real, but I remembered them,” Harry said defensively.

Hermione laid her hand gently on his, surprising herself with how much she’d missed their easy closeness over the past week. “Stories that gave you hope. But he had no way to know that at the time.”

“I think we’ve all had dreams or fantasies of someone who loved us stepping in to keep us safe when things got bad,” Theo said thoughtfully. “Like Luna’s crumple-horned snorkacks, they gave hope to us each in our own way that things would get better someday.”

“So if you two are done with your family drama,” Draco drawled, but then stopped when Blaise slapped the back of his head. “Hey, sorry! It was just a joke!”

“Rude, much?” Melody snapped at Draco. “We’re all here because of family problems. Just because Hermione’s parents weren’t ever abusive doesn’t mean she has any less of a right to talk out problems here. She’s certainly given us her unconditional support; she deserves the same back from us.”

There was a general murmur of agreement, and Hermione ducked her head, blushing.

“This is something we should all remember, though,” Cedric spoke up. “We all lean on each other, but I think Hermione takes a lot of it on herself. And even if she hasn’t been abused, she _has_ been bullied. Some of your classmates are particularly bad about it,” he added, shooting a look at the third year Slytherins, who nodded agreement. “Hermione, you don’t have to be the strong one all the time. We all have fears and insecurities, even you. It’s okay for you to need help, too.”

“I’m kinda bad at that,” Hermione admitted lowly.

“We noticed,” Blaise drawled.

“You guys know you’re my family too, right?” Harry said. “There was this quote that I saw once. I don’t know who said it, but it said ‘blood makes you related, but loyalty makes you family.’ We’re all loyal to each other here. We’re loyal to the AA. None of us were ever able to count on the families who raised us, so we formed a group of people who would support each other no matter what. Because that’s what family does.”

“I like that,” Adella said quietly.

“I think I read something like that once, too,” Theo said. “‘Friends are the family you get to choose.’”

“‘Friends are the family we choose ourselves,’” Hermione quoted softly. “Edna Buchman.”

“That was it,” Theo agreed with a smile.

“Bookworms,” Blaise coughed into his hand, provoking smiles and laughter from the rest of the group, the tension easing.

“No matter what, we will stick by each other. Through the blackest parts of darkness until we come out the other side,” Luna said in an odd tone.

No one really knew how to respond to that, even Luna, so they moved on to other things. Over time, Hermione realized the point that Harry was getting at. They didn’t have to limit their family to blood or blood bond. Family was just a group of people who showed _up_.

Monday, the AA had a huge party for Hermione’s 14th birthday. She’d never experienced anything quite like it before, and was surprised by how much she enjoyed it. She didn’t get a lot of gifts, and the few she did get were small, but they had all her favorite treats and snacks. Plus, Harry had started to open up to her again, which was the best birthday present she’d ever gotten. She realized that the best gifts were in the time they spent with her, and she made sure they all knew how much she appreciated it.

Later in the week, Harry became quite busy as the Quidditch season began. The weekend after her birthday, after having to reschedule several times, Harry and Hermione met with Remus to discover their animagus forms.

“The spell to discover your form is fairly simple. Just say ‘Animagus Revelio’.” Remus said. “It works best when you’re calm and relaxed. James and Sirius figured out if they meditated for fifteen minutes first, that would solve it.”

“Have you ever done the spell?” Hermione asked.

Remus nodded. “I have. I’d be a lion, if I decided to become an animagus. But I change into a wolf once a month and I figure I don’t need two animals running around in my head.”

Harry was already sitting and meditating. Hermione followed suit. Remus tried to help guide them when, after several minutes, they hadn’t gotten anywhere. Following his hypnotically low-voiced instructions, they both gradually relaxed into a meditative state of mind.

Following Remus’ instructions, they both took out their wands, pointed at themselves, and repeated the words. Hermione immediately straightened, her eyes going wide while Harry looked confused.

Hermione looked at Harry, “What was your form?” she prodded him.

Harry’s eyebrows drew together. “I’m not sure. It kinda looked like a wolf-dog, but a little different.”

“I have books on animals that you can check out for specific species,” Remus said.

“What’s your form?” Harry asked Hermione.

“I think… I think I’m a _panther_ ,” she revealed.

“Woah,” Harry breathed.

Hermione looked to Remus enthusiastically. “What comes next?”

“Next you make sure you have the species down, and I don’t just mean outward appearances, because you’re going to learn to wandlessly transfigure yourself into that form,” Remus lectured. “First you transfigure parts of yourself, then there’s a potion you need to take and you transfigure your whole self.”

“Are there anatomy texts for non-magical animals in the Library?” Hermione asked curiously.

“No, but I have some you’re welcome to borrow. And if you can come up with a reason why you need them, I’m sure Jean would send you a few specific ones,” Remus said with a chuckle.

After he dismissed them, Harry took the book Remus loaned him on various canids and headed for the Library. Hermione waved him ahead and then lingered just inside Remus’s office.

“Did you need something else, Hermione?” Remus asked kindly.

“I just wanted to ask you a question. Not school or magic related.” She chewed on her lower lip, betraying her nerves.

“Go ahead,” he replied, leaning on the edge of his desk with his hands folded over his stomach.

“Do you mind that I’ve called you Uncle Moony a few times? Harry does it, but I realized it was probably rude of me to assume it would be okay for me too.”

Remus gave her a gentle smile and his eyes brightened just a bit. “I don’t mind at all, Hermione. In fact, I welcome it.”

“Do you think Sirius will too?”

“Yes, I think so.”

Hermione nodded and gave him a bright smile before slipping out the door. Remus shook his head, amused at the workings of the teenage mind.

Though while he was considering the antics of teenagers, Remus realized that he had long delayed a conversation that by rights he ought to have had a long time ago. Deciding to get it over with before he put it off yet again, Remus left his office and headed for the dungeon.

Remus knocked on Snape’s office door and heard the low voice say, “Enter.” He let himself in and closed the door behind him, seeing that they were quite alone.

Snape raised his eyes from his grading and they narrowed at the sight of Lupin in his office. “Yes?” he drawled in a cool tone.

“I apologize for interrupting you. May I have a moment of your time?” Remus asked politely. When Snape nodded, he decided forthright was the best way to go. “Upon learning more about Harry’s life and the lives of several of his friends, I came to realize that as a student I was guilty of very similar behavior. I would like to offer you my sincerest apologies, both for those things I have done to you and for what I allowed by my inaction.” He paused, but Snape just stared at him silently.

Remus sighed. “I don’t expect you to forgive me. But I understand you have been a key element in Harry’s improved mental state. As you are a mentor to my… my nephew and his sister, I had hoped we might be able to have at least a civil relationship.”

The silence drew out between them for a small eternity before Snape finally looked up and spoke. “There were wrongs done on both sides. We were young, foolish and emotional. Things were done and said in the heat of the moment and under pressure of an oncoming war. We must never forget what we have done, but… I find that working with children who have suffered more than I has given those old events less impact. I forgive you, Professor Lupin. And for the sake of the children, I can agree to civil acquaintanceship.”

“Thank you, Professor Snape,” Remus said with a small smile. He offered his hand, and was only a little surprised when Snape took it for a firm shake.

“Thank you as well,” Snape replied.

They parted on somewhat better terms than they had been on previously, and as Remus headed back to his office he realized he was glad. He and Snape might never be friends, but a good working relationship was valuable in itself. And this way his… new family didn’t have to worry about past problems affecting the present.

Though how things would settle out when they found Sirius was something else to think about.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first term goes by.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've gotten some really great comments in the last week, and a few new readers! As always, our thanks goes to you - because comments and feedback are a fanfic writer's "paycheck."

WIthout the stress of a killer after Harry, for once, the rest of the school term flew by quickly. Given the fact that he was now allowed into Hogsmeade, though he was cautioned by both Remus and McGonagall to always stay with at least one other person in case more of Voldemort’s old followers were around, he was able to get gifts for almost everyone including Uncle Moony and Uncle Padfoot, thinking that maybe Hedwig could find him, wherever he was. He still needed gifts for Mum and Dad, but they were going muggle-mall shopping when they got home and that would cover it.

Hermione had asked Remus for some suggestions on gifts for Sirius. She knew almost nothing about him, but she wanted to include him as a ‘welcome to the family’ sort of thing, if nothing else. She also picked up a couple of small things for Harry, secreting them away while he was distracted by a display in one of the stores.

Almost before they knew it, they were boarding the train for King’s Cross. Though not all of the AA had been allowed to stay at Hogwarts for the holiday, Neville, Luna and Cedric didn’t think they’d have problems getting away from home for a day for their Muggle London excursion. Harry and Hermione, with occasional input from Luna, spent most of the train ride debating what sort of movie they should take their pureblood friends to. Luna had greatly enjoyed  The Neverending Story but they also were considering something that would show the others more of Muggle life. If they wanted the former, there was a film coming out soon called  The Secret of Roan Inish \- which was supposed to feature a girl around their age discovering selkies. If they wanted to look more at muggle life, culture and cross-culture sort of things, there was a film being released about Bruce Lee’s life, more of a biography than anything but it would definitely be a slice of muggle life for their friends. Alternatively, there were always classic films playing around the holidays, and some of those might be good for their friends too.

They still hadn’t picked out a movie by the time they reached the station, but the debate was tabled while they greeted their parents and said goodbye to their friends. Harry noticed pretty quickly that they weren’t going home. Or at least not directly.

“We have a quick stop to make before we go home,” Jean said. Harry raised his eyebrows when they pulled up to the Leaky Cauldron. He broke into a huge grin when he saw Uncle Moony come out with a giant bag. “Afternoon, Jean, George,” Remus said.

“Uncle Remus!” Harry and Hermione chorused excitedly. Even though they saw him at school that morning, it was good to have him headed home with them. They hadn’t expected it, but they happily squeezed over, allowing Remus into the car. 

“Hey Remus,” Jean said as he passed Jean the bag. “Thanks for bringing dinner.”

“Remus made the mistake of letting Jean know he didn’t have anywhere to go for Christmas,” George said. “She strong-armed him into staying with us.”

“Good,” Harry said. He wanted to make sure both parts of his family were together. Maybe the two parts would some day merge and it’d just be his family, rather than the difference between his past and his present, with Harry stuck in the middle.

“The more, the merrier,” Hermione chimed in. “Though be careful or Mum will have you in the kitchen helping make the Christmas pudding.”

Remus chuckled. “I haven’t had a proper Christmas pudding in years,” he admitted. “I might be willing to help if it meant I get some.”

“Now you’ve gone and done it,” George laughed. 

“Did you remember to get extra stockings for the mantel, Dad?” Hermione asked curiously. 

Harry’s head whipped around, startled at Hermione’s question. They’d gotten Harry one the year before, but with Remus joining them - and possibly Sirius in the future - Hermione had obviously thought it would be a good idea to be prepared.

“Of course, sweetheart,” Jean replied. “That’s what family does.”

“You,” Remus stammered, looking flummoxed. “You bought me a stocking?” He looked like he was about to cry.

Jean nodded, “Sirius too. You’re part of our family. Of course you’re going to get a stocking at Christmas.”

Remus looked out the window, looking like he wasn’t sure what to say. Harry slipped a hand into Remus’ and squeezed it. Remus looked at him and Harry smiled. “It’s nice,” Harry shared. “It’s nice, you know, to belong to people.”

“Yeah,” Remus agreed thickly. “It is.”

It wasn’t long before they pulled into the drive at the Grangers’ home. It took them several minutes to get everyone’s things unloaded, though Remus helped a great deal by shrinking the trunks while they were in the car so to the point that they’d be more manageable to get up the stairs. The mood was cheerful and the banter playful as Harry and Hermione expressed their joy at being home for the holiday.

Hermione turned around to head for the porch and stopped abruptly, startled.

On the front walk, between them and the house, was a very large but rather bedraggled-looking black dog. The dog was looking at them, unblinkingly, as if accusing them of something.

“Guys?” Hermione asked, stopped in her tracks. Harry and Remus froze immediately; Jean, and George followed a moment later. 

“We figured out the truth, Padfoot,” Remus said. “Pettigrew admitted to everything under veritaserum. It’s not over yet, but you’re likely to be exonerated at his trial.”

George eyed Remus for a moment, but the man seemed so sure of whom he spoke to that George believed him. “Why don’t we take this discussion inside,” he suggested mildly. “You’re welcome too, of course, Mr. Black.” He gestured towards the door and Jean headed for the porch, quickly unlocking and opening up the house.

Harry very slowly stepped forward. Padfoot carefully eyed the adults before he stepped forward so that Harry’s fingers buried themselves into the shaggy black fur. “Padfoot…” Harry whispered. Tearing up, he buried his face into the fur and inhaled. “I remember you.”

Hermione took both their trunks to the porch, then sat on the steps to just quietly watch her brother. She knew this reunion was something for Harry, Remus and Sirius and her turn would come, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t stick around to watch it happen.

“You used to give me rides on your back,” Harry recalled. “And you’d play Broomstick with me. And you were my first word. And I used to tell myself stories about you and Moony when I-” he stopped himself.

“Padfoot,” Remus said. “We need to talk. If you want to go in the back garden or inside, that’s fine, but the three of us need to talk.”

Padfoot got up and waited at the gate. Remus opened it and they all went in the back. The second Sirius was out of sight of the street, he transformed into a man. Harry had a hard time not reacting; Sirius looked worse than Harry ever had at the Dursleys. Sirius was rake thin, his clothes were dirty, and there were bags under his eyes. “Harry,” Sirius croaked.

“Uncle Padfoot…” Harry said softly.

“Why… why are you here? Why… you call these people Mum and Dad?” Sirius asked; he’d heard the family joking together as they got out of the car and unloaded. “Lily and James are…”

“Don’t do that, Sirius,” Remus said. “You have no idea.”

“What?” Sirius asked sharply. “What don’t I have an idea about?”

“Sit down and we’ll tell you,” Remus said firmly. “Listen before you make judgements.” It was something they’d often failed to do as teens, and something Remus was trying to correct for himself, at least.

Hermione went into the house when they left her on the porch. She understood that they needed their privacy, and as much as she wanted to sit at the window overlooking the backyard, she busied herself with hauling both sets of trunks upstairs, letting Hedwig and Crooks out of their carriers, and then helping set the table for dinner.

“After you were arrested,” Remus started. “Dumbledore sent Harry to Petunia.”

“He  _ what _ ?!” Sirius demanded, fury etching his features.

Remus silenced him with a  _ look _ , before continuing. “Harry lived with the Dursleys for ten years. They tried to keep his magic from him, and tried to stop him from going to Hogwarts, even. Hermione and Harry became friends in their first year, and she noticed signs of child abuse.” Harry guiltily saw something in Sirius die a little. In the next moment, he saw the spark of rage that lit. Remus continued his explanation. “So she wrote to her parents, who took the steps necessary to gain custody of Harry in the Muggle world. He has lived here with them since the summer after his first year.  _ Then _ they found out the reason Harry had been sent to the Dursleys in the first place; when Lily died to save Harry, her magic created a kind of blood ward that would only be maintained while he shared a home with someone of his mother’s blood.”

Harry chose that moment to speak up. “As soon as she found out about it, Hermione asked if there was a way for those bonds to be transferred to her, so she could keep me safe here. We’re bonded siblings now, magically and by blood. She  _ is _ my sister, and her parents are now my parents.” He looked earnestly at Sirius, hoping he would understand. “So yes, I call them Mum and Dad. I haven’t forgotten that I had my own parents once, but the Grangers have taught me what it is to be part of a loving family. And it’s wonderful. But that doesn’t mean I don’t miss them. I think about them every day. But they… they can’t take care of me. The Grangers  _ volunteered _ to love me, to become my family. You and Uncle Remus can be a part of it, too. Mum and Dad have already said that you’re welcome to come inside. Join us for Christmas hols.”

“They’re good people,” Remus said in a low voice. “They care about more than just Harry. They tracked me down so that Harry could learn about who Lily and James really were and we’ve been having Sunday tea ever since, regardless of Harry being away at school. Jean is quite insistent that I have access to regular meals. They even take care of me after I deal with my… furry little problem.”

Sirius was speechless for several long moments. Though fury still simmered under the surface, now it was more for Dumbledore and the Dursleys, not at Harry and Remus or the Grangers. They could see as the realization dawned that these people had protected his godson when no one else had. They had done for Harry what James’ parents had done for Sirius himself, and then some.

“Harry… A guard… in the prison… mentioned the date. The year. Knew you’d be at Hogwarts, hoped I could find you. I wanted to explain… I promised James that if anything ever happened to you I’d protect you,” he rasped, his voice weighed down with emotion. “If… this is what you want…”

“Please, Uncle Padfoot? Come… come meet my sister and our parents? Please?”

Sirius nodded silently. “You sit with Sirius, Harry,” Remus said, conjuring a second chair.

Harry stared. “But… Uncle Moony… what about the Trace?” He’d just learned about the Trace from his friends. It made him rather nervous, that a spell was monitoring his magic, but Draco had said it was for his own safety more than anything. 

“McGonagall informed the Ministry that multiple witches and wizards have been spending time here for various reasons,” Remus said. “They won’t automatically assume magic traced here is due to you or Hermione.”

“Oh… okay…” Harry moved to sit in the newly conjured chair. Sirius sat in silence, occasionally glancing at Harry. “Remus is teaching Hermione and I how to be animagi,” he revealed hesitantly.

Sirius’ face lit up. “Really?” he said. “Your dad and I learned when we were at Hogwarts. I don’t know if you knew.”

“Remus told me, but he hasn’t told me many stories about it,” Harry explained.

“I will… if you’d like,” Sirius offered.

Harry smiled. “I want to hear all the stories at some point. I’m sure Hermione will too.”

Remus returned with Hermione in tow, and she approached slowly and carefully, pausing at Harry’s side and ruffling his hair with a fond gesture before turning her attention to Sirius. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Black. I’m Hermione Granger.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Sirius said. “I suppose I should thank you, for helping Harry.”

“That’s not necessary. He’s my best friend. Even before the adoption, he was the brother I never had and always wanted,” Hermione explained with a shrug. “He’s family, and I’d do anything I can to make sure he’s safe and happy. And he’d do the same for me. It’s what family does.”

“Though, she wasn’t wildly fond of me when we accidentally ran into that three-headed dog our first year,” Harry said with a laugh. “Something about it being worse to be expelled rather than killed, wasn’t it?”

“Being expelled  _ is _ a fate worse than death,” she said primly, but couldn’t keep a straight face and laughed. “Besides, I did still help. You got through all the puzzles, just that I couldn’t go with you on the last one.”

“I felt better that you weren’t there,” Harry said. “And it all worked out. And then you brought me home…”

“Yeah, but honestly… I was surprised at first, too. I mean, Mum and Dad said they’d take care of it, but I hadn’t thought they would handle it by taking you away from your horrid aunt and uncle and make you part of our family right away.” Hermione smiled. “But I’m glad they did. Even if it meant you got grounded right along side me.”

Sirius stared at Harry and Hermione while Remus grinned. “You’d think they shared blood rather than just blood magic,” Remus said.

“Oh, that reminds me!” Hermione exclaimed. She threw herself at Remus, hugging him tightly. “I hadn’t gotten my hug yet since we got home, Uncle Moony.”

Harry laughed. “She’s kinda… tactile,” he explained to Sirius. “Be careful or she’ll be hugging you soon too.”

“Well someone has to get you used to hugs,” Hermione huffed. “It’s not like anyone at school or when you were little hugged you. So you’re behind on your quota and someone has to make up for lost time.”

“I… think I could handle a few hugs,” Sirius admitted in a low voice. “Though… I could use a shower first, I think.”

Hermione moved until she stood in front of Sirius and held out her arms. “Clothes wash, and so will I. If you want a hug, you can have one, but I will also understand if you’re not ready for that just yet. Harry needed me to hold his hand at first before he was comfortable with hugs.” 

“Fighting a troll together helped us bond, but getting used to touching someone casually was something else,” Harry said with a careless shrug. “I’m just glad you were patient with me.”

“Not everyone is touchy-feely. Just because I am doesn’t mean anyone else has to be,” Hermione responded. She slowly let her arms down to her sides, feeling it would be better not to push Sirius any more than it would have been to push Harry at first. “Mum is too, so I come by it honestly. But we know we can be a lot to take in all at once. So we can wait; it’s fine.”

“If you would like to come in and shower, though, Pads, I’m sure I can resize some of George’s clothes for you to borrow afterwards,” Remus offered.

“Are you sure this is okay?” Sirius entreated slowly.

Hermione gave Sirius a look, then her expression softened. “We wouldn’t have offered if it wasn’t okay.” She held out one hand. “Come inside. Get cleaned up and warm. Dinner’s in the oven staying warm for us all.” She smiled. “I’ll even sleep on the couch so you can sleep on a proper bed tonight. I’m sure Uncle Moony can make mine big enough for you to be comfortable.”

Taken aback, Sirius slowly reached out and folded his large hand around her much smaller one. Remus smiled and nodded in encouragement, ready to lead the way into the house. Harry reached out and took Sirius’s other hand. Together, they urged him to his feet and took the first tentative steps towards the welcoming warmth of the house.

After Remus helped Sirius shave and cut his hair, Sirius came out of the bathroom looking a little closer to human. Jean smiled warmly at him when they walked into the kitchen, and George approached slowly with a hand extended. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Black. I’m George Granger, and this is my wife, Jean.”

Sirius tentatively shook George’s hand. “Nice to meet you. Sirius is fine.”

“Then call us George and Jean,” George replied.

The bag Remus had handed Jean was indeed dinner from the Leaky Cauldron. It had indeed been kept warm in the oven, as Hermione had told them, and dishes were passed around as everyone sat at the table. Jean gently guided Sirius to one end, putting Remus and Harry on either side of him. Hermione sat next to Harry, Jean next to Remus, and George on the other end.

“Thank you for dinner, Uncle Moony,” Hermione said as everyone dished up their favorites. She noticed Sirius’ lips quirk in amusement when it finally sunk in that Hermione considered Remus family just as much as Harry.

The meal was anything but quiet as the Grangers asked Harry and Hermione about the term so far. They were both excited about Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, plus Transfiguration and Charms. Harry was a natural at Potions and would likely end up beating Hermione’s scores this year, but Hermione was quite proud of her brother and there was no animosity between them. A little friendly competition, but nothing that would cause either of them problems.

They did admit to being grateful for a more peaceful year at school; discovering Pettigrew aside, the only major gossip that troubled them were rumors about Sirius. And since they’d discovered the truth from Pettigrew, plus the additional information Remus was able to share as news was sent to him, they were able to ignore the rumors.

Sirius ate silently, only murmuring thanks when someone passed him a dish or offered him another helping. But he was clearly listening, taking in the discussion of Harry’s life at Hogwarts with his sister.

Everyone let him be quiet. “We were thinking we could play a couple of board games after dinner,” George suggested. “Anyone for Pass the Pigs?”

Hermione grinned and immediately got the black, wallet-sized dice game out of the games shelf. “What is it?” Sirius asked.

Hermione took out the two tiny pigs with dots on one side of each. “You roll these two pigs and how they land make certain points. If the pigs touch, all your points go away,” Hermione explained.

“It seems simple, but it’s actually pretty hard,” Jean said.

“But lots of fun,” Harry said. “Please?”

Sirius finally cracked, and gave a short laugh. “I never have figured out a way around that puppy dog face.” Harry grinned in response and the game started. They went around the table so that Sirius went last in the round, explaining the points to him as each person rolled the pigs. Harry and Hermione had the score sheet between them, and they took turns jotting down numbers.

“Exploding snap now?” Hermione suggested after the second game. She wasn’t overly fond of it herself, but she knew Harry enjoyed it and it would be something “normal” for Sirius, so she didn’t regret making the suggestion.

Eventually, after Hermione yawned for the fourth time, George called it. “Alright, bed. Both of you. We’ve got the mall tomorrow morning and then the Alley in the afternoon.”

“I’ll go get a spare pillow and blanket,” Hermione said. “I told Sirius he could sleep in my room tonight, so he could enjoy a proper bed. I’ll just curl up on the couch.”

“It’s generous of you to offer, but it’s okay,” Sirius said. “Moony can just transfigure the couch. I think us adults are going to stay up a while.”

“You could come sleep in my room, Hermione,” Harry offered shyly; it still seemed a little strange to him to suggest, even though he knew Mum and Dad were fine with it.

Jean sighed and glanced at George. “Now I wish I’d let you talk me into that larger house, back before we had Hermione. We could do with a few extra bedrooms for occasions like this.”

Remus cleared his throat. “There are charms that can expand the interior of your home without affecting the exterior. It would take a little time, perhaps a day or two to arrange, but we could add extra rooms to the back of the house if you wish.”

Harry and Hermione both yawned at the same time, and Jean gave them a look. “Both of you. To bed, now, please. You can both stay in one room, it’s fine. Just get going.”

“Yes, Mum,” they said together and headed for the stairs.

George sighed as the kids left hearing distance. Sirius wilted. “You okay, Padfoot?” 

“God, Moony. He’s so…” Sirius started, running his hands over his face. “I don’t know how to help him.”

“That’s why we’re doing it together,” Remus said. “The three of us spend a lot of hours worrying over him. “

“So does Hermione, to be honest,” Jean spoke up. “They’ve become each other’s staunchest defenders and strongest support. When Harry first came here, he didn’t know how to trust an adult. Any sort of authority figure, really. But he trusted Hermione, and she helped him learn to trust us. As for Hermione, she’d never really had a true friend before. Someone interested in the same things and who can keep up with her mentally. She’d been teased, bullied… and Harry won’t stand for that to happen to her anymore.”

“They’re good for each other,” Remus agreed.

“But how can they be so…” Sirius struggled to find the words. “Sometimes it’s almost like they’re adults in small bodies…”

“Sirius…” Remus said slowly looking at Jean and George nervously. “Harry’s revealed… the Dursleys…”

“Harry’s bedroom was the cupboard under the stairs at the Dursleys’,” George said gravely. “To them, he was a freak of nature. His magic was something to be starved or beaten out of him. When he got here, he was showing signs of years of malnourishment, even after a year at school. They treated him horribly, in part because they never wanted him in the first place.”

Sirius growled low under his breath, then let his head fall into his hands. “If only I hadn’t been so  _ stupid. _ I should have gone after Harry, not after Pettigrew. I was just so  _ furious _ …” He sighed. “Many Pureblooded families, mine among them, use more… archaic methods of discipline. But it’s something none of us ever wanted for Harry…”

“I remember that conversation,” Remus said. “Lily about lit the room on fire, ranting that in no uncertain terms should Harry go to her sister.”

“He’s safe now,” Jean reminded them. “Legally in the Muggle world, he’s part of our family. The Dursleys have no claim on him. And we are all, together, helping him to heal from growing up among those who feared and despised him.”

“Your daughter…” Sirius began, still struggling to put his thoughts into words at times. “I rather like her. She’s… fierce… but also protective. Loving. She reminds me of Lily, but without the temper.”

“Our Hermione can be quite fierce in the defense of those she loves,” George agreed. “But she doesn’t hold grudges, and once someone has apologized they’re easily forgiven. There has only been one exception… and, well, that’s mostly because the dolt refuses to apologize.”

“Who?” Sirius asked.

“Arthur Weasley’s youngest boy,” Remus revealed.

“What? No!” Sirius objected. “Arthur’s the good sort. And Charlie, Bill, and baby Percy, I remember…”

“There are a few more of them, now,” Remus said, shaking his head slightly. “Fred and George are twins, then Ronald, and then Ginevra is the youngest and their only girl. Ginny’s sweet, but definitely has her mother’s temper. But Ronald is who our kids are having problems with.”

Sirius blinked. “Seven children? Arthur and Molly have  _ seven _ children? So many Wizarding families struggle to have more than one or two!”

“It’s a mystery,” Remus said. “The Weasleys go back a ways, and the Prewetts are almost as old as the Potters.”

“In any case, both Harry and Hermione are generally on good terms with the Weasleys, with the single exception of Ronald - and Bill, whom they haven’t yet met,” Jean said. “We were over there on Boxing Day last year, and the twins seem quite fond of our kids.”

“Hermione is actually between their age and Ron’s,” Remus said thoughtfully. “She’s nearly a year older than Neville and Harry.”

“Neville?” Sirius asked.

“Neville Longbottom,” Remus supplied, and Sirius recalled the Longbottoms going into hiding at the same time as James and Lily. 

“Why isn’t she a year up, then?” Sirius asked curiously.

“Her birthday is September 19th,” George explained. “The term was already three weeks in by the time she got her letter, so she had to wait for the next year.”

Sirius nodded his acceptance. It happened sometimes, and while the Hogwarts staff tried to be as accommodating as possible with their students, there were some rules that simply could not be bent. Letters went out to magical children on their 11th birthday, and not before, with the exception of late summer birthdays.

“We thought it was just as well,” Jean said. “It gave her time to read the books provided to her about Hogwarts and being a witch. She hates going into new situations unprepared.”

“Unfortunately, that’s a trait Harry doesn’t seem to share,” George agonized.

“James was never much good at that, either. Unless we were planning a prank,” Remus said. “It got better as we got older, though.”

“We just worry,” Jean fretted. 

“You really love him,” Sirius observed. 

“Of course we do,” George defended.

“I’m sorry,” Sirius said. “I just wasn’t expecting all of this. And sometimes it’s hard to wrap my brain around the fact that Harry’s thirteen.”

“Just because he has us doesn’t mean he can’t have you too,” Jean reassured. “In fact, I think he needs you too. Most people during his childhood abused or ignored him. And most people in the Wizarding world see him as this famous… object. He deserves people who love him for him.”

“More than that, he needs us. All of us,” George said. “He needs you two to be the connection to parents he barely remembers, to knowing he was loved when he was born. He needs us to give him stability and a home. He needs Hermione because I think he trusts her more than anyone else, sometimes even more than himself.”

“I just sort of wonder if I should leave and get my head on straight,” Sirius said. “After hols, I mean.”

“Where would you go?” Jean asked, intending to hear him out before arguing for or against his idea.

“My family has properties,” Sirius said slowly. 

“Sirius no!” Remus objected. “You hate it there.”

“I’m not sure a place in the Wizarding world is the best idea until your name is fully cleared,” Jean said tactfully. “And honestly, do you really want to be alone? Seems to me as if you may have had enough of that already?”

“We’d be more than happy having you here,” George confirmed. “It’d be no trouble at all.”

“I’ve been told by Amelia Bones that all he needs to do is give an interview on the record and it’s done,” Remus explained. “But you’re right, the Minister may try to make it bigger than it is to save face. An upstanding citizen, the pureblood heir of one of the oldest families in England, and a decorated Auror wasn’t even given a trial. Disowned or not, it’s going to cause trouble.”

“Not sure how much more trouble I want to handle right now…” Sirius admitted lowly.

“Then stay here,” Jean said. “We can take Remus up on the arrangements to magically expand our house. Give yourselves a suite of rooms if you want; two bedrooms, sitting room, your own bath. Whatever you want. I’m sure Harry would love having you both living nearby.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Remus said contentedly.

“Okay,” Sirius conceded, nodding. “I’ll stay.” He paused. “Can I ask you something?”

“Name it,” George responded.

“How… how was Harry… you know… when you first met him?” Sirius asked.

George and Jean exchanged a look. Remus looked down. “You might actually want to ask Hermione that question,” Jean finally said. “We met him after he’d spent a school year at Hogwarts. When we first brought him here he was… skittish. Jumpy around adults. He also apparently did just about all the housework for the Dursleys, and it took me several weeks to convince him that while he can get up early and make breakfast if he really wants to, we don’t expect it of him. He does have assigned chores, but he earns an allowance for that, just like Hermione does.”

“He was entirely unused to idle time, especially when we were home,” George added. “I think he was able to relax during the day with Hermione, and they both started seeing a therapist which I think helped a lot.”

“The Dursleys were treating him like a house elf, Padfoot,” Remus said softly. “Except that house elves have magic to help them, and Harry didn’t.”

“We’ve had to show him over time that punishments don’t involve depriving him of food or… or intense physical harm,” Jean stumbled a bit, trying to find words that would soften the realization that the Dursleys beat their little boy.

“And from the sound of things, Dumbledore doesn’t know he’s here?” Sirius asked, a new hollowness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

“No,” Jean said slowly. “And we don’t want him to yet. I think Harry wants to wait until he’s of age, but that might not be possible.”

“He won’t hear it from me,” Sirius promised.

Remus nodded. “We should all get to bed though,” he confirmed. “It’s pretty late.” They all agreed and Remus transfigured the couch into two beds. Soon, the house was quiet and everyone was asleep.

Surprisingly, Hermione was the first one awake the next morning. She peeked in on Harry, but decided the stress probably meant he needed more sleep. So she picked up a book, crept downstairs past their sleeping guests, and closed the door to the kitchen so she could turn on lights. She set about making a large pot of tea, made herself a piece of toast, and settled into a chair by the window to read until someone else woke up.

Remus was the next to wake up, stumbling bleary eyed from the sitting room and tapping his wand to the teapot to charm it to stay hot before pouring himself a cup. “Morning,” Hermione greeted cheerfully. Remus grunted in response. It looked to Hermione like it had been a rough night. Hermione wasn’t really surprised.

She returned to her book until Remus finished his first cup of tea and looked a bit more alert. “Morning Uncle Moony,” she tried again. This time she got a smile in return.

“Morning, Hermione,” Remus replied. “What’s for breakfast?”

Hermione shrugged. “I’m not much of a cook, yet. I usually wait for Mum or Harry. In the meantime, there’s plenty of bread for toast.”

“Toast is a good start,” Remus said. Hermione got out the bread and Remus dropped two slices into the toaster.

“Most of our friends don’t even know what a toaster is,” she commented idly at Remus’ proficiency.

“My mum was muggle,” Remus explained. “Since she did most of the cooking, our kitchen was equipped with mostly muggle appliances.”

“That makes sense.” Hermione marked her place and closed her book. “I’ve been studying the animal anatomy texts, as you recommended. I think I’m getting the visualization process down.”

“What’s your form?” Remus asked curiously. “I don’t think either of you said.”

“A panther,” Hermione said, rather proudly. “Harry… Harry isn’t quite sure what he is. He says he looks like something that’s somewhere between a wolf and a dog… He’s trying to look up different species these days. We’ve ruled out a few, but we haven’t actually figured it out yet. A trip to the muggle Library might help, actually.” 

“Wizards are generally more interested in magical animals than mundane ones,” Remus agreed with a small smile. “The library will probably have to wait until after Christmas, though.”

“True,” Hermione agreed.

“Sirius knows quite a bit about dogs and wolves from his own research. He might be able to help Harry,” Remus thought aloud.

Hermione smiled. “It would be good for them to have something to bond over,” she said quietly.

“Morning you two,” Jean said, coming in. “How do you feel about pumpkin pancakes this morning?”

“Sounds great, Mum. There’s tea ready, if you’d like some,” Hermione responded cheerfully.

“Thank you, darling,” Jean said. She poured a mug of tea, then started pulling out ingredients for pancakes. “Did you all sleep well?”

“Fine, thank you,” Hermione responded promptly.

“Not too bad,” Remus hedged, though both Hermione and Jean shot him knowing looks. He sighed. “Sirius didn’t sleep so well though. Apparently, he’s been having nightmares since he escaped.”

“I can’t really blame him. Just one encounter with a Dementor gave me nightmares for a while,” Hermione said with a shiver. “And it wasn’t actually after me.”

“I don’t think anyone can blame him,” Remus said.

For a short while, the only sound in the room was the sizzle of batter on the griddle. As the pile of pancakes slowly grew, Hermione moved her book aside and began to set the table for breakfast. Sirius came in, wide awake, and hesitantly sat down.

“Breakfast is almost ready, Sirius,” Jean said warmly. “Would you like some tea?”

“Um… yes, please?” Sirius responded hesitantly. 

Hermione immediately got up and went to the tea set. “How do you take your tea?” She almost called him ‘Uncle Sirius’ but decided she didn’t want to overwhelm him more than he already was.

“Black, three sugars,” he responded. Hermione fixed the cup to his specifications and brought it over to the table for him. “Thank you,” he said quietly. She just smiled at him.

Harry entered the kitchen a moment later, hair sticking up everywhere and glasses slightly askew. “Morning,” he mumbled.

“Go sit down, Harry,” Hermione said with a laugh. “I’ll get your tea.” Harry obeyed, slumping into a chair and resting his head on his folded arms. “Bad night?” Hermione asked quietly as she set the mug of tea, cream with one sugar, in front of Harry. She gently rubbed his back.

“Nah, I slept like a rock. I guess I just needed the sleep,” Harry said. “I actually haven’t had a nightmare in a while.”

“That’s great, Harry,” Jean said.

“Professor…” she paused, uncertain if she should mention Snape by name in present company. “Well, he said the Occlumency lessons would help decrease nightmares eventually, remember?”

“Yeah, and we’ve both gotten better at it this year,” Harry agreed.

“Good morning, family,” George said brightly, striding into the room looking wide awake and quite put-together. 

“Morning Dad,” Harry said, smiling a little.

“Oh, good, I don’t have to send one of the kids up to wake you,” Jean said with a smirk as George gave her a kiss good morning.

“Well, they started pranking me to wake me up,” George said with a smile.

“Oh, really?” Remus asked with a raised eyebrow. He looks at Harry. “James would be so proud to hear it.”

“Well, the Map did say we might be suitable heirs to the Marauders,” Harry replied.

“You have our Map?” Sirius asked, perking up briefly at the thought.

“Yes,” Hermione confirmed. “The Weasley twins apparently swiped it from Mr. Filch’s office, and they showed it to us for Harry’s birthday celebration. They told us to introduce ourselves, and were  _ so confused _ when it didn’t insult us like it does most people.”

“That was pretty funny, yeah,” Harry said with a chuckle. “I’m honestly a little afraid to reveal to them that I’m the son of Prongs.”

Hermione shakes her head. “You already did that, remember? Though we haven’t told them yet that Remus is Moony.” She shot a glance at Remus. “We weren’t sure if you’d appreciate a fanclub, even if it’s a small one.”

“Fred and George want to open a joke shop,” Harry explained to Remus and Sirius. “Only fifth years, and they’re already planning their own joke products.”

“They’re brilliant, really,” Hermione agreed as the platter of pancakes was passed around the table. “I’ve helped them tweak a few things when they’ve gotten stuck. But they do everything from Potions to Charms to enchanted candy.”

“Sounds incredible,” Sirius said.

“I bet Molly is less than pleased, from what I’ve heard,” Remus smirked.

“She really wants all her kids to go into the Ministry,” Harry said, laughing. “Percy landed on working for the Ministry, but he wants to work for the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. He says watching over Fred and George has given him a lifetime of experience and he wants to use it to help others. I think she just wants them to have steady jobs.”

“That is something most parents want for their children,” Jean said calmly. “Stable income and the ability to enjoy life.”

“But even if it’s not a steady income, especially at first, maybe for them it’s worth it to be doing what they love?” Hermione suggested.

“It’s always worth doing what you love,” George confirmed. “But it’s important to be able to pay your bills without relying on any inheritance. I suppose it’s better take the time to find what you love right after leaving school rather than waiting.”

After everyone finished eating, the topic turned to Christmas shopping. “We actually got several things at Hogsmeade a couple of weeks ago,” Hermione explained. “So there’s less that we need to shop for this year.”

“So the morning at the mall and the afternoon at Diagon is reasonable?” George asked with a smirk.

“Yeah,” Harry agreed. “I don’t honestly think we’ll take too long.”

George looked to Remus and Sirius. “Did you want to make a start on the arrangements we discussed last night while we do our muggle shopping? We can come home for lunch and then all go to Diagon Alley this afternoon if you’re up for it.”

“Maybe Padfoot would like to come?” Harry asked hopefully.

“I’ll think about it,” Sirius said. “People… people still make me a little nervous.”

“It’s your choice, of course,” Jean agreed. “But you’re welcome if you decide you’d like to try. Remus can always bring you back home if it’s not working out.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Sirius said.

“We’ll make sure to bring you home lunch. Any requests?”

“Just a pasty for me,” Remus said.

“Make that two,” Sirius agreed.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas shopping, baking, and gifts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your wonderful reviews. They really keep us going!

The Grangers did indeed make short work of Christmas shopping that year. The gifts they needed were mostly for each other and their muggle extended family, though Harry and Hermione still wanted a trip to Diagon Alley to use some of their pocket money at Flourish and Blotts. They picked up lunch from a pasty shop on the way home from the mall and the shopping bags were stashed away in different rooms before they all sat down to eat.

“How was your morning?” Harry asked Sirius and Remus curiously. Sirius was sporting a bruise on his jaw that the Grangers were all curious about and Remus looked annoyed. 

“It was fine,” Sirius said gruffly.

“Padfoot had some things to suss out,” Remus added, giving Sirius the evil eye.

Harry went crimson as he realized they’d been fighting about him and everyone fell into awkward silence. On the one hand, he was happy Remus stood up for the family they had. On the other hand, he didn’t want to be the cause of a fight between his uncles. And he knew Hermione wouldn’t like it, either.

“Would you-” Hermione stammered, trying to break through the awkwardness. “Would you come with us to Diagon Alley?” Harry looked hopefully at his uncles. 

Harry’s hopeful expression convinced Padfoot to join the family for the last few stores they needed to stop in. They drove to the Leaky and Remus let them in through the brick wall. Harry and Hermione walked either side of Padfoot, doing their best to both shield him from the crowds of shoppers and to keep him calm. Padfoot seemed calmer when Harry stayed close to him.

Hermione very quickly discovered that Padfoot responded quite well to scritches on the head and behind his ears. He was much like an actual dog, in that respect, and it definitely distracted him anytime he felt uncomfortable. Harry thought it was rather adorable, the way that Padfoot curled up between Harry and Hermione as they looked at books to use their allowances on in Flourish and Blotts, clearly guarding them from any possible dangers. Because of his obvious vigilance, they mostly browsed together, seldom more than a few feet apart so he could easily see them both at once.

Fortunately, no one disturbed them in the bookstore. On the way home, Sirius again curled up between Harry and Hermione, all three content and sleepy. Rather than rouse everyone, Jean made sandwiches, cut up some fruits and vegetables and put them out on the coffee table while Hermione, Harry, and Sirius curled up on an enlarged couch to watch a movie. Remus put a stasis charm on the food, allowing the three lethargic members of the family to eat as they got hungry.

That night, Remus ended up borrowing Harry’s room, as Jean and George decided to leave their teens and Padfoot asleep on the couch together.

Harry woke first early the next morning, made a pot of tea and went out to the back garden. Sirius followed not ten minutes later. “Come to kidnap me?” Harry teased, with a touch of bitterness. 

Sirius sighed and looked regretful. “No,” Sirius admitted. “No, I’m not so blind that I can’t see that it’s good for you, being here.”

“It can be good for you too,” Harry said softly. “You deserve a family too.”

Sirius grimaced. “I…. I could get you into trouble. I could get  _ them _ in trouble.”

“That’s a really silly reason,” Harry said, snorting. “I’m already in trouble for being here in the first place. Besides, my middle name is danger.”

Sirius smiled. “Your Dad used to say something like that. Of course, it wasn’t as significant when he said it. It’s tradition to name your heir’s middle name after yourself, and your grandfather worked as the head of Accounting for the Daily Prophet.”

“And if Uncle Moony tells it right, you and my father got into a lot more trouble,” Harry grinned, silently logging the information about his grandfather in his mind. “So maybe my middle name is trouble and not danger. Though with the threats against me so far… well... Hermione would probably disagree.” He made a face, but his shrug indicated that he didn’t mind disagreeing with Hermione overmuch.

“Trouble, danger… either of those would be applicable to a Marauder,” Sirius replied. “Though the way I hear it, Hermione has been in about as much danger as you.”

“Well, yes, but only because she’s my sister and she’s protecting me. If she weren’t always with me, she’d be less of a target,” Harry replied. 

Sirius snorted. “That’s doubtful, unless the Slytherins have changed how they treat muggle-borns in the last twelve years.”

“Not outwardly,” Harry replied. “But who knows what goes through other people’s minds,” he added in a non-committal tone. He did know several Slytherins at this point who changed how they treated Hermione, but he had to keep them safe too. Their names had never been mentioned, even to family. Though that would change soon, if their Muggle Day was going to happen.

Harry did recall how Ron and several of their other classmates had treated Hermione before the incident with the troll, and decided that Sirius might be right. Hermione’s trouble would just be  _ different _ trouble, if she hadn’t gotten close to him.

The silence drew out for several minutes, though it wasn’t entirely uncomfortable. Sirius seemed awkward, at a loss for conversation topics. But Harry thought of something before it got too weird. “Uncle Sirius? You had to do a lot of research on your animagus form, didn’t you?” Sirius nodded. “Do you think maybe you could help me figure out what I am?”

“Possibly,” Sirius hedged. “You know what it looks like?”

“It looks kinda wolf-like and kinda dog-like, but also like it’s not quite either. I’ve tried researching both dog breeds, wolf breeds, and crossbreeds, but so far nothing quite fits,” Harry explained.

“Describe it for me?”

Harry thought back, calling the image to mind. “Well, it definitely has a canine face, with slightly rounded ear-tips, but its forehead is not as broad as a lot of wolves. The torso seems longer, and the legs a little bit shorter. I think wolves have longer tails, too, but it’s furry like a wolf’s tail, longer fur rather than the shorter, sleeker fur of some dogs’ tails, kind of like a fox’s tail. It’s kind of a golden-beige color, with black markings.”

“It’s small and quick?” Sirius asked. “I mean, not so small to be miniature but smallish?” Harry nodded. “That sounds like a jackal to me.”

“A jackal?” Harry asked, intrigued. “I’m not familiar with them. I don’t think I saw any when we went to the zoo…”

“Most of them only live in Africa, though there are a few that range into southern Europe and southwest Asia,” Sirius said. “I came across them when researching various forms of canine. It’s not just wolves and dogs; there are coyotes, dholes, jackals, and a couple of different lines of wolves. It took a while before we figured out I was a Padfoot, which is another name for a Grim before they got that offensive reputation.” Sirius turned up his nose and did his best to look offended. 

Harry chuckled and nodded. “I always liked Padfoots. Or would it be Padfeet? Anyway, I think of them rather fondly. Though the Divination Professor apparently keeps predicting I’ll run into a Grim and die and it’s getting a bit annoying.”

“Apparently?” Sirius raised an eyebrow.

Harry shrugged. “I was told by a reliable source that either you have the Sight or you don’t; that it’s not something that can be taught. So we’re not taking Divination; I just keep hearing about it from housemates who are.”

“It wasn’t offered while I was at school, but we’d heard Dumbledore had hired someone. They offered us dueling class instead, because of the war,” Sirius offered with a crooked smile. 

“We had a teacher try to start a duelling club last year, but it was really more about him trying to show off than to teach us duelling.”

“Did you show him up?” Sirius asked.

“Well, yeah, kinda,” Harry admitted.

“That’s our boy,” Sirius said, pride in his voice.

When the tea was gone, they headed back inside. Jean was halfway through making a large egg scramble and she smiled as they came in. “Harry, would you please set the table? Sirius, would you mind seeing if Remus is up, please? He slept in Harry’s room last night.”

“Sure,” Sirius agreed, ambling out of the kitchen. 

Harry bustled around, getting plates, cups and silverware out to ready the table for their meal. “Baking day today, Mum?” Harry asked.

“You bet,” Jean agreed. “What do you think we should make this year?”

Harry thought about it. “Lemon oatmeal biscuits, maybe? And some of the fudge bars?”

“Those sound good. Do you have a favorite?” Jean asked, gently probing.

“Treacle tart,” Hermione answered for him as she came into the room. “He can’t get enough of them when they make an appearance at school,” she teased gently.

“I’m a growing boy. It’s practically my job to be a bottomless pit!” Harry objected without any power behind his objection. Hermione laughed. “So what, you aren’t going to ask Mum to make those spiced biscuits you love so much?”

“No need to make it personal,” Hermione muttered, blushing. 

“I’ll just make a batch of both,” Jean promised.

“If you’re taking requests, could we do a brandy pudding for the New Year?” Remus asked as he followed Hermione into the kitchen and the family began to eat. “Sirius and I particularly enjoy it.”

“We can make that happen, of course,” Jean agreed.

“And Mum and Harry always make a bunch of homemade breads and sweets. We always get to come back to school with a bunch of homemade stuff and ask a seventh year to put preserving charms on them,” Hermione explained.

Harry grinned at Hermione. “Blueberry or cranberry orange scones this year?” 

“Ooh. Cranberry for Christmas, please!” Hermione responded cheerfully. When everyone was done eating, she and Harry quickly cleared the table and Hermione began washing dishes while Harry and Jean got ready to start baking.

Sirius frowned as Harry put on an apron and started pulling various ingredients out of cupboards and measuring things precisely. It was obvious to him and Remus how he’d learned it. “It’s okay, really, we made him swear up and down he enjoys it,” George explained. “Nearly banned him from the kitchen a few times, his first summer here.”

“We believe you,” Remus said so that Harry couldn’t hear, looking pained. “It’s just… Lily tended to burn everything she baked, and James could burn water.”

George chuckled. “No, Harry’s quite good at it, and with Jean’s help he’s only getting better. And as long as he’s baking because he enjoys it, we’re not going to stop him..”

“Harry has gotten extremely proficient in Potions since I pointed out that it was just like learning to bake; follow the directions, prepare the ingredients properly, and make sure you have the timing right,” Hermione said, coming over with a towel in her hands. “Professor Snape hasn’t had a complaint about him in over a year.”

Sirius’s eyes narrowed at the mention of Snape, but Remus shook his head. So Sirius bit back angry words and just grumbled under his breath. Hermione continued on as if she hadn’t noticed. “In all honesty, I think Harry will take top of the class in Potions this year. We didn’t have final exams last year, so placement was rather nebulous, and first year he hadn’t started to take it seriously yet. But everything we’ve turned in together this year has gotten O’s.”

“We’re all proud of you for doing so well, Hermione,” Remus said, and she beamed in return. “And Harry too, of course.”

“All right, everyone,” Jean said sternly. “If you’re not staying to help, get out of the kitchen.”

“Yes, ma’am,” George said fondly. He quickly retreated from the kitchen, Remus right behind him. 

Hermione and Sirius traded a glance before Hermione went over to the counter to help her Mum. Sirius sat gingerly at the end of the table. “I don’t know how to bake,” Sirius admitted quietly to Harry. “But I think I could handle simple instructions. If you tell me what to do, I’ll try.”

“I can do that,” Harry answered with a grin. “You can help me measure ingredients. And do some mixing.”

By evening, the house smelled of various spices and baked goods, and both bakers and helpers were tired but pleased with the results. George and Remus had done a couple Tesco runs for ingredients, then quietly run out to get take-away for supper, which was greatly appreciated by the four who had been busy in the kitchen all day. There had only been one small accident, when Hermione startled Sirius, but the spill was easily cleaned up and no one was hurt.

“Can we put another package together for Professor Snape like last year?” Harry asked Jean as they all stared at the giant pile of food on the kitchen table.

“You made most of it,” Jean said with a fond smile. “But I’ll make sure of it.”

“Why in Merlin’s name would you give your hard work away to the likes of Snivellus?” Sirius demanded angrily. “It’s not like that pillock deserves it.”

“Sirius…” Remus said, a low warning in his tone.

Harry blinked, then took a step back, away from Sirius’ obvious anger. Hermione took a half-step sideways, blocking Harry with her body in a protective fashion. “It’s Harry’s work, to give as he chooses,” she defended him staunchly. “If he wants to share with the Professor of his favorite class, why shouldn’t he?”

“Uncle Moony mentioned something about a bitter rivalry,” Harry said slowly. “Just… know that Professor Snape is part of the reason why I’m not with the Dursleys right now. He fixed everything for me. He made the bonding potion for Hermione and I. And he’s saving other kids from their abusive heads of houses, as much as he can.”

“Severus helped them start a support group for abused students, though only a few students and fewer staff know it exists. He has been mentoring them, too, to boost their own defensive skills,” Remus explained. “He and I have made peace, partly for their sake. And honestly, partly because we’re adults and it’s time to let childhood anger remain in the past.”

“But Moony, he’s a  _ snake _ !” Sirius protested. “He disrespected Lily, and he’s a Death Eater!”

Hermione stomped her foot, arms crossed in front of her. “There’s nothing wrong with being Slytherin. Harry and I both had the possibility of being sorted there, only that there were other reasons not to. He may have once been a Death Eater, but he’s not anymore! And from what we’ve been told, he tried many times to apologize to Lily for a slur used in anger and mortification, and she refused to accept it. So who’s the better person there?” Her dark eyes flashed with a hint of amber-gold as she defended one of the few people who had ever offered her a shoulder to cry on outside her family.

Sirius’s jaw dropped during Hermione’s tirade. “Professor Snape has been very good to the kids. We’re grateful for him and everything he’s doing. He’s teaching them dueling, has told Harry about the prophecy he’s involved in…” Jean explained. “Christmas biscuits are really the least we can do.”

“Professor Snape has been very good to us,” Harry added softly. “He’s been teaching us Occlumency, and he has been as gentle as possible. Once he realized what my relatives had done to me, he stopped… looming. I mean, he has to be strict or more people would blow up their cauldrons, but he’s become far less intimidating to students who have been abused. He knows and understands that we can’t deal with that sort of thing from an adult.” He turned beseeching eyes on Sirius. “Please, Uncle Padfoot… don’t be angry… don’t make me choose between you and him.”

“I’ll never make you choose, Harry,” Padfoot said, his anger melting away at Harry’s pleading. “I’m sorry, everyone. I guess I’m rather… well, what I mean to say is, the Dementors only left me with all my negative memories for a long time. It’s hard to remember that the people I disliked weren’t all bad. It’s hard not to concentrate on the negative right now.”

“It’s okay,” Harry said. “We all make mistakes.” He stepped around Hermione and moved to hug his godfather gently.

“I’m sorry I snapped,” Hermione said softly, sorrow and regret coloring her features. “I wasn’t thinking about you, only what you said. That was wrong of me; you’ve been through so much too.” She hung her head and her shoulders slumped.

“Hey, no, don’t be upset. I deserved to be yelled at,” Sirius said.

“He really did. I regularly had to do it myself back in school,” Remus said, trying to cheer Hermione up. “I always said Sirius was born with pretty much everything but sense.”

Hermione smiled slightly at the comment, but still looked regretful. “I don’t normally have such a quick temper.”

“Maybe I’m rubbing off on you a bit too, Hermione,” Harry offered. “Though to be fair, you’ve always been quick to jump to my defense.” The two traded a small smile and Hermione shrugged in response.

“Harry James Potter, have a quick temper,” Sirius said sarcastically. “Never.”

“Both James and Lily had tempers,” Remus explained, amusement in his voice. “You did not get patience in your genetics, which unfortunately means you’re going to have to work on that.”

“Merlin, remember when James was Head Boy and he met those third years out-of-bounds after curfew?” Sirius asked Remus. “I thought he was going to light something on fire, he was so mad.”

“And Lily’s anger was like  _ ice _ ,” Remus confirmed. Harry listened raptly as his parents’ friends exchanged recollections. Hermione found a seat by Remus, since Harry was by Sirius, and Jean and George settled into chairs to just listen quietly.

“It really was. She had the cold fury thing down, pat,” Sirius agreed. “I remember thinking she could give Cissa a run for her money on chilly disdain.”

“She’d get so mad when the Slytherins would get openly hostile about the idea that a muggle-born could be naturally good at a particular subject of magic,” Remus said.

“She didn’t like being judged for something she couldn’t control,” Sirius agreed.

“I know the feeling,” Hermione muttered, trying hard not to interrupt but unable to keep the thought to herself. Harry grimaced, knowing the feeling as well.

“It was worse for muggle-borns back before the first war,” Remus said. “Open hostility for them from the Purebloods, especially from traditionalist families. In some classes, Slytherins would openly curse them, right in front of the Professor. And the muggle-borns never said anything for fear that worse would happen. A Slytherin in our year once had the mistake of cursing Lily our first year. She walked right up to him and slapped him so hard his face was red for about a week.”

“I won’t say I haven’t been tempted, but I grew up with parents who believe that violence is not the answer,” Hermione said primly. “If I hadn’t, it wouldn’t be a Slytherin I’d want to hit, though. Or, at least not currently.” She scowled for a moment, then sighed. “Anyway. Back to Lily and James.” Remus shot Hermione a sympathetic look; she smiled and shrugged at him before returning her attention to Sirius.

“Well, Lily really was brilliant,” Sirius said. “Her best class was also Potions, so I suppose some of that has passed on to Harry. James was a dab hand at Charms, though. We got into a lot of trouble because we’d master the lesson pretty quick and then start messing about in the back of the classroom.”

“James spent years mooning after her before she finally accepted him,” Remus smirked. “For years and years, she thought he was a prat. To be fair, James and Snape never could get along, and she stuck by her childhood friend for a long time. Our pranks seldom amused her, either. Except for that one, where we made everyone’s hair turn to their house color. She actually thought that was fun for House pride.”

“A lot of Muggle schools have school pride days,” Hermione explained. “Everyone wears the school’s colors for the day in solidarity. That might be why she appreciated House pride.”

“It was my fault that she thought James was a prat,” Sirius admitted. “She was friends with Sni-Snape, and Snape insulted me and teased me for my name and the fall out that was bound to come from my being sorted into Gryffindor. I took offense and James leapt to my defense. Lily simply came over at the wrong time and only heard what James said to Snape.”

“Eventually we had a good laugh over it,” Remus recalled, clearly amused.

“I actually had something like that happen,” Harry said slowly. “A Slytherin who’s in the abuse group we started was kind of… bully-ish when I first met him. After everything with Ron last year, I learned that first impressions aren’t always true. That perceptions and preconceptions about any of the houses are completely wrong.”

“A lot of Slytherins became Death Eaters though,” Sirius grumbled.

Harry nodded, understanding his godfather’s position, even if Sirius didn’t have a complete understanding of the situation. “Yes, but the question is - did they join because they wanted to or because that was what was expected of them and they didn’t have any other way out?” Sirius and Remus looked at each other, eyes wide. “If Voldemort comes back, or rather when Voldemort comes back, a lot of my friends are going to be forced to join the ranks because their parents won’t give them a choice in the matter. I just don’t know how to help them.”

“Harry!” Hermione clapped her hands excitedly. “Didn’t you tell me that the Potters have several homes and properties that are currently only accessible by someone with Potter blood? What if we could find them and use them as safe-houses for our pure-blooded friends who don’t want to join the Death Eaters?”

“But what about school, love?” Jean asked. “Surely their parents could simply come to Hogwarts and take them home again.”

Hermione chewed her lip for a moment, thinking hard. “Two options,” she said. “Either they stay hidden and somehow receive tutoring so that they can pass their OWLs and NEWTs, or there’s some way that Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape can help us protect them.”

“We would have to tell Dumbledore about them, and probably about our club,” Harry said with a small frown. “And that would mean telling him the truth about… me.” 

“Wait, you mean Dumbledore doesn’t know you’re here?” Sirius asked, startled.

“No,” Jean said firmly. “I know he’s seen as a great man and powerful protector by most wizards, but he sent Harry to his mother’s family and as far as we know never once checked on him to make sure he was safe. Which we all know he wasn’t. Let’s just say that it has given us some doubts. Especially since we didn’t grow up with his reputation hanging over us.”

“Dumbledore told me Harry was somewhere safe,” Remus said quietly. “And I trusted him. If I hadn’t taken what he said on faith…” He trailed off, letting Sirius really think about it for a moment. Expression bleak, Sirius eventually nodded.

“It would probably be worth it if it keeps our friends - the Slytherins in particular - safe from their own families,” Harry finished his earlier thought. “Especially with you both behind us, I think it would be a bigger fight to take me away from here than it would be worth to him. I hope. And I want my friends to be safe, too.”

“It is what the Potters did for you, Sirius,” Remus mused. “Gave you a place where your parents couldn’t reach you before you were disowned.”

“True enough, and I can’t see your parents or grandparents objecting to the use of their homes for that purpose,” Sirius agreed. “And both Moony and I know where the primary Potter Estate is,” he added. “We couldn’t get into it if the wards are as you say they are, but you two should be able to grant us entry.”

“I want to talk to Professors Snape and McGonagall first,” Harry said. “Giving them access to an estate is the easy part, honestly, and there might be things we’re not thinking of. The professors, especially Professor Snape, have gotten good at thinking of ways to keep us safe that didn’t occur to us.”

“Well, Christmas is in just two days,” Hermione pointed out. “And two days after that, Professor Snape will be bringing our friends here so we can take them around Muggle London, remember? So we can talk to him about the idea then?”

“Oh, yeah!” Harry said. “Which means we need to do this, too.” He turned and looked at all of the adults seriously. “I need you all to promise on your lives and/or your wands that you will keep the identity of the members of Abused Anonymous completely private, and that you will not judge them based on their family names and reputations.”

“I promise,” George and Jean agreed immediately. “Their identities will be safe with us,” George added.

Remus nodded after a moment. “I have some ideas already. I promise on my wand that I will protect their identities and your secrets.”

“I promise,” Sirius said sincerely. “It’s clearly important to you… so it’s important to me.”

“Thank you,” Harry said, smiling.

“Then it’s okay to let you know who’s coming,” Hermione said. “Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom and Cedric Diggory will be arriving separately. Professor Snape will be flooing here with Theo Nott, Blaise Zabini, Draco Malfoy, Marcus Flint, his half-sister Adella Campbell, and Melody Crouch.”

Sirius’s eyes went wide. “Malfoy? A Malfoy, turning away from blood purity?”

“Yes,” Hermione said firmly. “He’s actually a really good friend of ours. He and Theo helped us with the Chamber of Secrets battle last year.”

Sirius regarded Hermione with a new look, one of fond respect. “I’ve got to hand it to you, Kitten, but you’ve apparently got quite a way with people if you can organize that list of people into a mutual support group.”

Hermione blushed. “I had a lot of help. And really, they all want to be there. They want a choice about how their lives are lived.”

George blinked a little. “Huh. Hermione generally doesn’t like pet names. But she hasn’t made a fuss about yours.”

“Well, I was kinda prepared for it. The Map called me ‘Miss Kitten’ just like it called Harry ‘Mr. Fawn’ so I kinda figured it would come up at some point,” Hermione admitted. “I don’t mind, as long as it’s just Uncle Padfoot and Uncle Moony.”

“Wait, Melody Crouch…” Sirius said, looking distressed. “As in Barty Crouch’s youngest?”

“I think so,” Hermione said slowly. “Why?”

“Barty Crouch was head of the MLE at the time. He’s the one who threw Sirius in prison without a trial,” Remus explained.

“Her older brother was thrown in Azkaban for being a Death Eater, though,” Harry said. “She says home has become rather hostile since then, and we have no reason to doubt her.”

“Oh, I’m not doubting that she’s abused,” Sirius said, looking pained. “Crouch is… well, in mixed company I’d limit it to saying he’s a mean son of a bitch. And rumors around the office were that he had a tendency to pour himself into the bottle after work.”

Harry nodded. “Sounds accurate,” he said, “from how Melody has described him.”

“So our friends told their families they would stay at Hogwarts for the Christmas hols, and Professor McGonagall has made arrangements for a quiet day-trip with us. Professor Snape is coming along to help supervise, and of course you’re all welcome to come along if you want to,” Hermione explained.

“Where were you planning to take them?” Remus asked.

“The Air and Space Museum in the morning, a muggle cafe for lunch, a movie in the afternoon, and a nicer restaurant for dinner,” Harry said.

“We’re trying to show them that Muggles are different but not inferior,” Hermione added. “And also to help them understand that our lives aren’t that much different from theirs, aside from the whole pureblood tradition thing.”

“Padfoot would love to come along,” Sirius said. “Besides, I can sense danger better in my animagus form than I can in my human state.”

“It’s good of you to try and update purebloods on the 500 years of muggle history they’re mostly missing,” Remus interjected. “I think muggle studies covers the major events, like world wars, but don’t discuss technological advancements. I’d be happy to come.“

“Count us in too,” George said. “Gotta show those purebloods that muggle life ain’t half bad.”

Harry laughed. “Hermione and I have already started updating them on history. We brought back a bunch of books for them after last Christmas. She’s also teaching them the basics of genetics and why inbreeding is bad.”

“I wish there were a way to ward muggle devices to work at Hogwarts,” Hermione said sadly. “Can you imagine taking a calculator to Arithmancy? Or a walkman to play tapes? Or a tv and vcr so we could show them movies?”

“Or showing them video games, or computers, or the internet?” Harry suggested. “Much as I love Hedwig, email is more efficient and far less messy.”

“What are you going to show them, if none of them have seen a movie before?” Jean asked curiously.

“We’re taking them to the old theater down the street,” Harry explained what they’d finally decided on.

“It’s a discount theater that shows old movies,” George explained to Sirius and Remus. “Every Christmas they have the same schedule of double-features. A couple days after Christmas is… I think it’s  _ The Wizard of Oz _ and  _ Meet Me in St. Louis _ .”

Hermione nodded. “I didn’t want to expose them to cartoons without explaining it first,” she confirmed. “But I also wanted them to see something that was at least partly in black and white.”

“We were discussing some new movies coming out,” Harry said with a shrug. “But we weren’t sure how understandable they’d really be to our friends.  _ The Wizard of Oz _ would be interesting for them, though, I think.”

“And then if anyone’s interested, we can share copies of the books,” Hermione added. “We have them all.”

“Of course you do,” Remus said fondly. Everyone shared a laugh.

The next two days sped by, though Harry and Hermione enjoyed every minute of them. The Christmas movies they watched at night, Sirius wound up really liking. They decorated the tree together, told stories, ate too much and took naps when they felt like it. Harry felt like the hole he had felt living with the Grangers had been filled with Sirius and Remus around. 

Christmas morning saw Harry and Hermione both awake early in their excitement. They tried to keep quiet while they snuck through the living room and into the kitchen to make tea for the adults they were sure to wake up shortly, but their giggling roused Remus and Sirius anyway.

Sirius, once awake, was just as excited as the kids, bouncing around the kitchen while Remus sat with his tea in the corner, a bit more sedate. A short while later, Jean and George joined them and Harry got out the scones he’d made for them to snack on while they opened presents.

Harry and Hermione had a great time delving under the tree to distribute gifts. Both Remus and Sirius looked startled as the piles of gifts in front of them grew. They had just as many gifts as George and Jean. The kids had more, of course, but that was to be expected on Christmas.

A number of gifts remained under the tree when they were finished. “What about those?” Sirius asked.

“For our school friends,” Harry said. “We’ll see them in a few days.”

After everyone opened their presents, Sirius and Remus unveiled the new wing of the house. There were four new bedrooms and two new bathrooms on the second floor and a huge sitting room and a sun room on the ground floor. Each floor had a doorway that led to the magical wing of the house as long as you knocked in a certain pattern. Otherwise all that could be seen was a closet filled with the usual things. There was also a way to lock and hide the doors, if the Grangers wanted guests over for example; then no one could access the wing no matter what.

One of the bedrooms was clearly intended to be Harry’s and Harry felt torn about it. On one hand, as he was getting older he’d have more magical things lying around and didn’t want anyone to get into trouble. On the other, however, he didn’t want his parents to think he was choosing Uncle Padfoot and Uncle Moony over them.

What left Harry speechless, though, was the gift Remus and Sirius jointly gave him. “Think of it as twelve birthdays and Christmases in one gift,” Sirius suggested as Harry stared at the Firebolt. Harry had seen the broomstick in Diagon Alley and the card had said ‘Price on Request.’ It was immaculate. A work of art. Harry didn’t know what to say. 

He’d won the first two games of the Gryffindor Quidditch season and Oliver was drilling them like mad. He was determined to win this year. Harry didn’t blame him too much, though the 5 AM practices three weekday mornings a week were getting a bit old. Harry could see that the work was paying off though. They’d never been more cohesive as a team. Harry could feel everyone getting sharper, faster, and stronger. Oliver had charmed a golf ball to act a bit like a snitch, though the golf ball had a habit of pelting at people rather than hiding.

“And this one is yours, when you want it, Kitten,” Sirius grinned at Hermione and opened the fourth bedroom door. Two walls were solid built-in bookshelves, the third had a desk and the closet door, and the fourth a large, plush bed. The shelves were only about a third full, but Hermione could see the titles of some very rare magical texts on the nearest shelf. It was decorated in royal purple and dark grey and seemed more mature than her current room, which still had the remnants of childhood colors of green and lavender.

“We know that as you grow in your magic, you’ll want a place to keep magical items. So now you’ll both have Muggle-acceptable rooms in the main house and magical escape rooms in our part of the house,” Remus added.

Hermione was absolutely speechless. She just stared at them with wide eyes full of surprise and disbelief.

“Listen, love,” Sirius said quietly, crouching down to her level and meeting Hermione’s gaze. “If Moony and I had our own place, we’d have rooms for both of you to come visit. While there might be times we’d invite Harry just for something special, most of the time we assume you’d both be visiting. We haven’t done anything we wouldn’t be doing anyways.”

Hermione flung herself at Sirius and hugged him tightly. “Thank you,” she whispered. Sirius went still for a moment, then carefully hugged her back.

“I told you there would be hugs if you let her,” Harry teased them both.

George and Jean wrapped Harry in a hug of his own. “There, now you can’t feel envious,” Jean teased back. Remus laughed.

Harry’s put-upon sigh gave way to a smile as he burrowed into his parents’ embrace. “This feels right,” he said after a few moments of quiet. “It feels like this is how my family always should have been.”

“It is, pup,” Sirius said solemnly. “Your Mum and Dad may not be the people we loved when you were born, but they’re a good family for you to have. And if you’re happy, then we’re happy.” There was warmth and affection behind Sirius’ voice. “I’m still grieving for Lily and James, but I realize now that just because I miss them doesn’t mean I can’t begin to accept that Jean and George are part of our family too.”

Harry beamed; for the first few days, he wasn’t sure he’d ever hear Sirius say such a thing. “I don’t have words to tell you how happy I am right now. I didn’t know it was possible to be this happy.” Harry couldn’t understand those at Hogwarts who complained about their families. This was… everything he’d ever dreamed of.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wrapping up the winter hols.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is just a touch shorter than is usual for us. But it doesn't need word count to have an impact, at least we think so.
> 
> As always, many thanks to our faithful followers and commenters. We always love hearing from you, and it definitely makes tough days better!

The happy, relaxed, family feeling that Harry had gained didn’t last. The Grangers had again received an invitation to The Burrow for Boxing Day that everyone had agreed to accept, though Harry was extremely hesitant. They had returned the owl, letting the Weasleys know that they accepted as long as they could bring an extra person, the Hogwarts defense professor, as well as the family pets, Crookshanks and Padfoot. Permission for both was granted. On the plus side, even with Remus making multiple trips, side-along apparating to Ottery St. Catchpole was  _ much _ faster than driving.

Padfoot barrelled into the twins the second they came out, gleefully pouncing on the pranksters who loved jokes as much as the Marauders had. “Padfoot, no!” Harry exclaimed. The twins were so stunned, Padfoot managed to knock them over. Hermione giggled, Crooks curled contentedly in her arms. He was getting much bigger, but he wasn’t yet at his full size so she could still carry him readily.

Remus whistled and Padfoot got off. The twins looked like they were about to say something, then they glanced at their parents.who were greeting Harry’s and Hermione’s parents. 

“Come on,” Gred finally said. “Let’s go up to the Quidditch field.”

Harry looked at his parents for permission. Jean nodded, and Harry, Hermione, the twins, Crookshanks and Padfoot all took off for the field. Molly looked at them curiously and Jean smiled good-naturedly. “Crookshanks is extremely well-trained,” she said by way of explanation. 

“Half-kneazle?” Arthur asked, and Jean nodded again. “Makes sense. They’re quite intelligent, you know.”

“So we’ve been told,” George said genially. “So, how’ve you been?”

There was no one else at the Quidditch field when the small group arrived, which Hermione thought might be the point when the twins whirled around with wide eyes. “You called him Padfoot!” Gred said.

“ _ The _ Mr. Padfoot?” Forge asked next.

“We promise, we won’t tell anyone,” Gred added.

Harry and Hermione looked to Padfoot, who studied the twins for a long moment and then slowly and deliberately nodded.

The twins grinned at him and dropped to the ground, sitting so they were at his level. “The Marauders are the standard we hope to live up to!” Gred exclaimed.

“To achieve their level of success in pranking is our goal!” Forge proclaimed.

“And it’s such an honor--”

“--to have you here!” they finished in twinspeak.

Padfoot yipped in agreement and pounced on the twins again. Laughing, they roughed up his fur and petted him extravagantly. Harry and Hermione flopped down onto the grass beside the small pile with nearly identical grins. Hermione reached into her deep coat pockets and pulled out a pair of small boxes. When the twins settled, she handed one to each of them. “Happy Christmas,” she said.

“We didn’t get individual gifts for your whole family this year, so we wanted to give these to you privately,” Harry explained as the twins opened their gifts. Though the boxes were identical, the contents were not. One was a small paperback book of Muggle tricks and pranks, with a note that several could probably be adapted or improved with magic. The other contained a package of water balloons, food coloring and other odds and ends that would allow for pranks that couldn’t be detected by magic. 

Each box also contained one of Hermione’s specially charmed fake galleons, with instructions on how to make them work and that they would only connect to each other, Harry and Hermione. 

They played a little pick-up Quidditch, after the boys coaxed Hermione onto a broom. But it soon proved to be too cold for both them and Padfoot, and they rushed indoors. “Too cold, even for Quidditch out there?” Jean asked, observing Harry and Hermione in a way that only a mother could, worry just below the surface.

“Yeah,” Harry agreed breathlessly.

“Harry, Hermione, this is our oldest brother, Bill,” Forge said.

The new person at the table looked undeniably cool with long, red hair that was tied back and an earring in one ear. “I’ve heard a lot about you two from the twins,” Bill said with an easy smile. “It’s nice to meet you guys.”

“It’s nice to meet you too. Happy Christmas,” Hermione answered, holding out her hand. Bill took it, gave it a shake and then lifted it to his lips to kiss her knuckles with a sly wink. Hermione blushed bright red and stepped aside to let her brother meet their friends’ brother.

“We’ve heard about you too, Bill,” Harry said with a smile. “It’s good to finally meet you.” He and Bill shook hands briefly.

“Happy Christmas to you both,” Bill said, smiling brighter. 

“Bill was just telling us what being a curse-breaker is like,” George said. 

“Please, don’t stop on our account,” Hermione said, finding a seat by her parents. “I’m sure it’s very interesting work.”

“It can be, yes,” Bill said. “It’s a bit like solving a logic puzzle. A lot of times I’m sent to sites with heavy-duty curses stacked on top of each other and you have to find the vulnerable point to break the curse. It’s enjoyable work, but it’s long hours and I’m away from home a lot of the time. It’s a minor miracle I got approval to take yesterday and today off.”

“I’m sure you meet a lot of interesting people, though,” Hermione commented, enraptured. She rested her chin on her hand, focusing her attention on Bill.

“Oh, definitely,” Bill agreed. “I’ve made friends with local people in several communities. Most recently, my job took me to Egypt. You’d be surprised how many layers upon layers of curses are on some of the old Egyptian tombs.”

“I always wondered if there might be more pyramids and tombs that Muggles simply can’t see or don’t notice,” Hermione mused. “Or if some of their artifacts and artwork might not be magical, if only a magical person approached it. Their mysticism and closeness to their gods was so profound, I can’t imagine there  _ not _ being a magical community among at least some of the dynasties!”

Laughing, Bill nodded. “You’re absolutely right, Hermione. “Muggle archaeology is actually fairly well advanced of ours at this point, but I’ve met some wizards with muggle degrees in archaeology after getting their wizarding credentials. It’s interesting to see the skills combining to advance our knowledge.”

Hermione’s eyes shone with excitement. “I can’t wait to hear more about what they discover! I’ve wondered why no one ever combines Muggle and Magical skills. Oh, it’s all so interesting!” She turned pleading eyes on her father. “Can we make a trip to Egypt one of these summers, please Daddy?”

“Let me know if you do,” Bill said. “If I’m still working down there, I’ll see if I can arrange you a little ‘behind the scenes’ tour.”

“That sounds lovely,” Jean said with a fond smile for her daughter’s enthusiasm. “What do you think, Harry? Does it sound like fun?”

“Yeah, I think it does,” Harry agreed. “It was really interesting talking to those wizarding paintings in Venice. They had such different perspectives on magic. If there are some from Ancient Egypt, they’ve got to have a very different take on things.”

“Our trip this past summer was certainly interesting,” Molly said. 

“What about the Mummy’s Curse?” George inquired curiously. “Aspergillus niger and Aspergillus flavus?”

“Just a muggle explanation to a magical curse,” Arthur said, shaking his head and smiling, as if patiently explaining something to a five-year-old.

“Actually, he’s right,” Bill interjected. “Aspergillus niger and Aspergillus flavus does cause a reaction that, coupled with an exposure to the molds and fungi in the tomb can be fatal without intervention. We usually add preventative spells to the tombs we’re working on, and there’s always a mediwitch or wizard on-site, so it’s extremely safe. There are other curses that are added to certain mummies, but mold and fungi is something we have to be careful of.”

“So many wizards and witches think everything Muggle is silly and unfounded,” Jean agreed patiently as Arthur’s jaw dropped. “They seem not to realize how many scientific advancements we’ve made, even in the last fifty years, means that there are a lot of things we have proof that they exist. Most muggles gravitate towards provable fact more than belief.”

“We’ve been working on that with some of our friends at school,” Harry told Molly, Arthur and Bill. “It’s hard, because we can’t show them pieces of technology, though. They don’t function at Hogwarts, or even in most magical areas.”

“We’ve had some experience with that on site,” Bill agreed readily. “Magical fields and the electrical fields many of those devices use are incompatible and will typically cause the device to explode, shatter, or otherwise fail.”

Hermione’s eyes lit up. “Have you found a way to shield the devices?” she asked eagerly.

Bill shook his head. “Not well, and not for long. Some of the Americans say they have Arithmancers working with Runic Masters to see if they can combat the problem, but so far they haven’t had much success. Muggle tech is changing too quickly.”

George nodded. “It does that. Just in the last fifteen years, computers have come a very long way. Music recordings have gone from the 8-track to the cassette tape to the compact disk, with the required technology to both make the recordings and to allow people to listen to them.”

“What’s a ‘compact disk?’” Arthur asked curiously.

George hesitated. Padfoot looked up from his place by the fire rather curiously. “You know what a record is?” he asked. Arthur nodded. “So, records are made by applying heat with a metal plate made based on the recording, then stamping the plate to a round piece of plastic. A compact disc does something very similar, but instead of a hot metal plate, a laser is applied.

“A laser is a device muggles use that emits light and transfers data. Lasers have, so far, been used as precision cutting tools, for at-home printing, lighting, recording music - pretty much everything.”

“The compact disk was created to hold 80 minutes of music, because that’s enough time to record the entirety of Beethoven’s 9th Symphony,” Hermione piped in with a bit of trivia. “Or the full length of most operas.”

“Amazing,” Arthur breathed, wide-eyed as a child.

“Maybe sometime you can visit our home,” Jean suggested lightly. “We can show you some of the things we use every day; things I’m reasonably sure the Wizarding world isn’t aware of.”

“That would be wonderful!” Arthur exclaimed.

“Wizards have us beat on travel, but we’re working on that too!” George exclaimed cheerfully. “We have plenty of other examples - like, no one uses quills any more in the Muggle world.”

“I was really glad I had experience with fountain pens when I started at Hogwarts, otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to write legibly with a quill,” Hermione said. “Pens are so much easier to use. But my grandfather was fond of old-style fountain pens, and he taught me to use them when I was younger.”

“I still have a hard time with quills sometimes,” Harry admitted. “I often wonder if I couldn’t just bring a box of pens, and if anyone would notice the difference if I did.”

“They probably would, but only because of your sudden ability to write legibly,” Hermione teased.

“Could we see one of these ‘pens’ perhaps?” Forge asked curiously.

“Sure. I have a couple in my purse,” Jean said. She started to get up to grab her handbag, but Remus just waved his wand.

“ _ Accio _ Jean’s handbag,” Remus said, and the purse came zipping over to them. She rummaged through it and pulled out four pens; two black, a blue and a red. They were all different.

“This way if I have to write something down quickly, I have a pen and paper on hand,” Jean explained, getting out a notepad next. She demonstrated by clicking one of the pen tips down and writing her name on the pad.

The pens and paper got passed around to curious Weasleys as Jean and George explained how it worked. “I wonder if we could charm these to write like a quill,” Gred suggested. “No more messy ink bottles - we could make a fortune.”

“Muggle-born or muggle-raised first years could certainly use something like that,” Hermione said. “And I’m sure most professors would appreciate everything being legible. Though there are already pens that write like quills - fountain pens. They have the same kind of pen-nib as a quill does. Muggles make them with ink cartridges inside them, so you don’t need ink bottles. When the cartridge runs out, you just replace them. Though you could perhaps also charm the cartridge to be self-refilling from a bottle of ink kept nearby…”

“Can you bring us some of these, please, Hermione?” Gred asked beseechingly.

“We’d love to experiment,” Forge agreed. “Please?”

Hermione and Harry laughed together. “I think we can arrange a trip to get fountain pens before the hols are over, can’t we Mum?” Hermione asked.

“I don’t see why not. They aren’t particularly difficult to obtain,” Jean replied with a shrug.

Lunch with the Weasleys was great fun. Even Ron, who’d been mostly ignoring Harry and Hermione this term, was civil to the two of them and smiled at the twins’ antics a couple of times. Harry wondered if Ron was finally coming to terms with Harry becoming more himself, but he decided not to get his hopes up. If the youngest Weasleys were too immature for himself and Hermione, at least they could be good friends with the older ones.

After lunch, gifts were exchanged. Molly had knitted jumpers for the Grangers and Harry. The Grangers had decided on one nice thing to benefit the whole family, and they gifted the Weasleys with a brand new set of stoneware dishes, with enough place settings for sixteen.

Molly stared at the large box, wide-eyed, and Jean offered her a smile. “It isn’t much, but it should be sturdy enough to be hard for your boys to break them accidentally.”

“Thank you very much,” Arthur said, as his wife was speechless. “Gred, Forge, that is  _ not _ a challenge.”

“Accidentally-on-purpose doesn’t count as accidental,” Jean added with a warning look at the twins. “They’re not difficult to replace, but I’d rather not need to.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the twins chorused, giving her their best halo look. Jean’s skeptical expression said she didn’t buy it but wouldn’t argue for the moment.

Padfoot, who had been more than happy with the bowl of ham bits and rice that Jean had served him, was currently curled between Gred and Harry, gave Remus an entertained look. Crookshanks was curled in Hermione’s lap where she sat between Forge and Bill.

“Well, then, who wants pudding?” Molly asked cheerfully.

The rest of the afternoon with the Weasleys went well; no explosions of temper or other incidents. Before they left, Bill gave Hermione his contact info in Egypt and she promised to write him regularly. They did call it a day early, though, as they had a venture around London with a bunch of pureblood kids the next day.

The next morning, both Harry and Hermione were up early again. While Harry started breakfast, Hermione went over the brochure and map from the Air and Space Museum for the tenth time, plotting the best possible use of their time, though with some flexibility depending on what the group wanted to see. She also double checked the envelope containing their movie tickets; the theatre had allowed them to purchase tickets in advance considering that they needed fifteen seats. They were booked for the 2:00 double feature, so they’d have plenty of time for lunch before going to the theatre.

“Hermione, it’s going to be fine,” Harry said with a patient smile. “Don’t worry so much.”

“I can’t help but feel like I’m forgetting something.”

“If you are, we’ll adapt,” Harry reminded her. “We’ll have our parents with us, plus Professor Snape, Remus and Padfoot. If we forgot something, they’ll fix it.”

Shortly after breakfast, Remus left to pick up Luna and Neville. Around the same time he returned, the Floo flared green and the students of the AA Club began stepping through. Harry and Hermione waited patiently in the living room for everyone to cross over, though it got rather crowded by the time Professor Snape stepped through last. It was definitely amusing to see their friends dressed in muggle clothes for a change.

Padfoot wiggled between Harry and Hermione; time at the Weasleys had helped him start adjusting to crowds and noise, but this was a lot of people in a very confined space. Hermione patted his head absently and Padfoot pressed his head against her thigh in thanks for the comfort she provided.

Greetings and a few hugs were exchanged, everyone introduced to Jean and George, and then Professor Snape called for quiet.

“I have procured us a Portkey that will drop us in a Wizarding area near to the Museum,” he explained to everyone. He produced an ordinary looking child’s jump-rope. “Everybody travelling much touch part of this rope. It will activate on command, so whenever we’re ready we can go.”

Everyone was looking around curiously. “This is a muggle home?” Theo queried. “Huh… it… looks like any other home, just without magic.” Theo and Marcus were studying the family photos on the mantel - including the newer ones with Harry among them. They were still, though; muggle photos didn’t move.

Harry laughed. “That’s kinda the point, mate. Muggles are just like Wizards. Just without magic.”

“There are probably only a few things you don’t recognize,” Hermione said with a shrug. “I mean, we use light bulbs instead of candles, lanterns, or mage-lights. Our stereo works a lot like the Wizarding Wireless, just mechanical and not magical. The television works on the same principle, but with image and sound instead of just sound.”

“What are these?” Adella asked, looking at a colorful row of videotapes on a shelf.

“Remember we said we’d take you to see a movie today?” Harry asked. “Those are recordings of movies so we can watch them at home.”

“Oh! How clever,” Adella replied with a smile.

“What’s this?” Draco said, having found the thermometer/hydrometer dials on the window.

“That’s how we can tell how hot or cold it is outside, as well as what the humidity is. If the humidity is higher, there’s a likely chance of rain. There’s a channel on the television that’s dedicated to telling us what the weather is and what it’s going to be for the next ten days too.”

“How do they know what the weather will be?” Melody asked curiously.

“We have ways to measure air temperature, pressure, cloud masses and several other things,” Jean explained carefully. “It’s a complicated field of study, but the predictions are reasonably accurate within a few days. Sometimes the forecast for the next week will change, but the predictions for tomorrow and the next day are generally reliable.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in Divination, Hermione?” Neville asked.

Hermione tried to smother a giggle. “It’s not Divination, Neville. It’s an educated estimate based on specific measurements. For instance, based on cloud movements, scientists can estimate how much moisture is in the cloud and therefore estimate how much rain or snow we might get.”

“That’s amazing,” Blaise commented. “Why do they spend so much time figuring it out?”

“Well, Muggles can’t cast drying charms or warming charms, so they need to be able to dress appropriately for the weather,” Remus put in. “If your coat and gloves aren’t warm enough, you just spell them warmer. Muggles will dress in layers to preserve warmth when they go out in the cold and snow.”

“And walking around in wet shoes is no fun,” Harry pointed out. “So knowing to wear waterproof shoes or boots is a really good thing too.”

“Muggles use science in many parts of their lives,” Snape drawled. “As we will see once we get to the museum.”

“Shall we go?” George asked cheerfully.

All the teenagers - Harry and Hermione included - had a great time at the Air and Space Museum. They read information on the displays, spoke to museum employees to ask questions, listened to presentations and brief lectures and much more. The museum had a row of gyroscopic flight simulators that everyone took turns trying out - though it was difficult to get Draco off to give someone else a turn. His grey eyes were bright with excitement at how fast muggle jets could go and that they could maneuver like a good rider on a fast broom.

Lunch was a noisy affair; fortunately, they had most of the little cafe to themselves. Everyone ordered at the counter and their food was delivered to the tables. Hermione, Theo and Melody had all picked up books from the museum shop and were delving into them for answers to the multitude of questions everyone still had. The adults shared a table in one corner where they could keep an eye on the group of boisterous teens. Remus and Jean relayed Hermione’s idea about using the Potter properties as safe-houses for the pureblood teens when the war broke out again. Snape promised to discuss it with McGonagall and see what they could determine between them.

Draco hadn’t shut up about the gyroscope, wondering if there was a magical career that would allow him to fly that fast. Harry pointed out that if there weren’t, he was still a British Citizen. He could always enlist in Her Majesty’s Air Force. Harry and Hermione exchanged a pleased look. The trip was a huge success, obviously. And they were only halfway through.

They returned to the Grangers’ in plenty of time to walk the few blocks to the movie theatre. They were still about forty minutes early, but they expected some boggling at the snack counter and explaining ordinary candy, popcorn and soda to the young wizards and witches. Snape had made sure each student had a reasonable amount of muggle money before the trip, so they could each choose their own snacks.

“Right, everybody,” Remus said on the walk to the theatre. “There’s no talking during the movie, so you’ll have to save your questions until after. We’re going to another Muggle restaurant for dinner, but we’ll put up a couple of misdirection charms so people don’t think we’re crazy for not knowing about films.”

“Yes, Professor,” most of the group chorused.

There were no previews at this cinema, so the black and white of the famous film appeared as soon as the lights went down. The surround-sound startled a few of the group, but they all watched raptly as the story unfolded. There were gasps of surprise and awe when Dorothy arrived in Oz and suddenly everything was in color. 

There was some scoffing when the Wizard of Oz was revealed not to be a great and powerful magician, but rather an ordinary man using tricks to pretend to be one. There were gasps of dismay when they thought Dorothy might not get home, and then some chuckles when Dorothy woke up and thought it was all a dream.

During Intermission, they all talked to each other in low voices so others wouldn’t overhear. They suspected some spellwork assisted with that, but weren’t about to test it. They debated what the movie was an allegory for and Hermione shared what she knew about life in turn of the century America. Even Remus and Snape were pulled into the debate at one point. Harry stuck to his belief that it was about how, as one grew up they learned to stick up for themselves and the people or things they loved. 

It was a dangerous lesson in their world. Harry knew several of his friends were toeing a very dangerous line, and he resolved that for his New Year’s resolution, he’d help figure out how to fix that. His family had dozens of properties. Surely, they could work something out.

After about fifteen minutes, the lights dimmed for a moment, signalling that they’d be starting in a couple of minutes. “So what’s this next one about?” 

Hermione beamed and Harry smiled. They watched a lot of Christmas movies in the Granger household, regardless of the season. “ _ Meet Me in St. Louis _ is about two sisters falling in love, mostly. But the last song is probably the most famous Christmas song ever written.”

They settled back down and Harry lost himself in the music of the musical. The story wasn’t half-bad, if a little… girly. He’d always liked music. The Dursleys would never pay for him to do anything like learn music though. 

The people sitting around her heard Hermione quietly singing along with the Christmas carol, her voice barely a whisper of sound. No one seemed to mind, though. It just felt appropriate.

“I didn’t know you could sing, Hermione,” Adella said as the group made their way out of the theatre.

Hermione shrugged. “I don’t have any great talent for it, but I enjoy it. Sometimes music helps to quiet my mind.”

“We all do things for ourselves that we don’t always show other people,” Harry said.

Hermione nodded. “That’s true. I wouldn’t want to sing in public or as part of a show or anything. But I don’t mind if family hears me. None of you will make fun of me if I miss a note or something, I should hope.”

“No, of course not, Hermione,” Luna said for everyone. “Can you sing the ‘over the rainbow’ song from the first movie too?” Hermione nodded. “Would you? Please? While we walk to dinner?”

So Hermione sang “Somewhere Over The Rainbow” for her friends. She couldn’t quite hit the highest notes, and she cringed a little when her voice cracked in the attempt, but nobody minded.

“Can you teach it to me sometime?” Melody asked. “I’d really like to learn.”

“Sure,” Hermione agreed. “I’d like to hear some Wizarding songs other than the Weird Sisters and Celestina Warbeck. Maybe we can trade?”

“Sounds great.”

“I’d like to join you too, if I may,” Blaise said. “I used to sing with my Mum when I was little.”

“Of course, Blaise,” Melody answered.

“Count me out,” Draco said. “You couldn’t pay me to sing in a group.”

“No, but when you’re mother gives you that  _ look _ you sing for family,” Theo teased.

“Shove off,” Draco grumbled in response.

Everyone else laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Winter couldn't resist throwing in a little singing when we decided on a musical. Music just makes life _better._


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A perfect holiday... or is it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not everything can be perfect, all the time...

The day after their tour of Muggle London, Hermione woke up with a cold. A cough settled deep into her chest by the morning, but she didn’t want to let it keep her from holiday fun. So she made herself get up. A hot shower helped her breathing somewhat, but getting dressed afterward was a mild struggle. She just ached.

She hung onto the railing of the stairs as she made her way down to the kitchen for breakfast. “Morning, everyone,” she greeted, attempting her usual cheer.

“You sound awful,” Harry said, staring concernedly at her.

“Should we get a Pepper Up from Diagon Alley?” Sirius suggested.

“It’s usually best to let these things run their course,” Jean said, going over and feeling Hermione’s forehead. “No fever. Want some hot cocoa luv?”

“Yeah,” Hermione said a little hoarsely. 

“After breakfast, I’ll start on some chicken soup,” Harry volunteered, brows furrowed with worry.

“You don’t have to fuss,” Hermione pleaded, but was interrupted by a cough. “It’s just a cold.”

“It’s no trouble,” Harry said with a smile. “Besides, you’ve been taking care of me at Hogwarts all this time, now it’s my turn.”

“I have to go into work for a few hours today, but I’ll stop at the store and bring home orange juice and ginger ale,” Jean said. “Just call if you need me to get anything else, though.”

“We’ll be fine, Jean,” Remus assured her. “Lots of rest for our sick Kitten.”

Jean handed Hermione her cocoa and a small portion of eggs. “Try to eat, luv,” she said, smoothing back her daughter’s hair. “Then you can either go back to bed or curl up on the couch.”

After breakfast, Harry didn’t just make chicken noodle soup, but also banana ice cream to soothe Hermione’s sore throat, fruit popsicles, and an egg-heavy custard to help make sure she was getting the protein she needed.

Hermione was bundled in blankets on the couch, several books in easy reach, and Padfoot curled up on the end of the couch by her feet. Remus had convinced her to let him transfigure her clothes into a comfy pair of flannel pjs, and her bathrobe was thrown over the back of the couch for trips to the loo, and he stayed nearby in case she needed anything. He read to her from a book she picked when she was awake enough to listen. While he was cooking, Harry made sure Hermione had constant access to hot mugs of honey and ginger tea and would routinely clean the area of dirty tissues that Hermione covered the couch with once she filled the tiny waste bin to overflowing. 

During a particularly violent fit of coughing, Sirius was immediately at her side, helping her sit up and supporting her body as it shook with effort. She had no idea how he transformed so fast, but she was grateful for the support of his lean arms around her. He grabbed a tissue to wipe her tears of misery away when she was done for the moment, and soothed her into a restful doze. She snuggled into his embrace, and Sirius felt truly touched by the amount of trust her actions implied.

They roused her for lunch and she ate a bowlful of chicken noodle soup while everyone else had sandwiches. After lunch, Harry read his study notes to Hermione until she fell back asleep, then he turned to a few Quidditch plays he was working on using geometry. 

“What’s that?” Sirius asked as he saw a corner of the parchment.

“I’m working on an idea I had to help us win the Cup,” Harry explained. “Slytherin’s won it for the last five years and everyone’s counting on me to win.”

Sirius snorted and Harry looked at him curiously. “Sorry,” Sirius apologized. “I just… you’re supposed to win the House and Quidditch cups, ace all your exams, defeat Voldemort and be home in time for curfew.” Harry smiled sagely. “I’m sorry I wasn’t the one to raise you.”

“It’s okay, Uncle Padfoot,” Harry said. “It worked okay… I’m just glad you got out of Azkaban. When are you testifying?”

“I have an appointment for the week after you return to school,” Sirius said evenly, though his expression hinted at more than a tinge of dread. “It’s not on the books, so Fudge doesn’t find out, but I’m meeting with Amelia Bones.”

Harry smiled. “I’m glad. It will be nice to be able to go places with Sirius and not just with Padfoot. I love Padfoot, don’t get me wrong, but I love Uncle Sirius, too.”

“I love you too, pup,” Sirius said, reeling Harry in for a brief hug. “Just be warned it might not be very cut and dry. Fudge is going to try to save face on this. I was wrongly imprisoned, and he’ll be concerned about how it reflects on him.”

“You’re not… you’re not leaving, are you?” Harry asked in a small voice. He feared being alone again. 

Sirius snorted. “I’m pretty sure the last place Fudge would look for me is in a hidden magical expansion of a Muggle home. Moony and I didn’t put that area in to be temporary, pup. The only way I’m going anywhere is if they drag me back to Azkaban.”

“We won’t let them,” Hermione mumbled groggily. “Family protects family.”

“I’m not sure we can stop them, Hermione,” Harry said, voice still low with fear.

“Psh,” Hermione said, then stopped to cough into a tissue. “Mum will pitch fits if they try. Not alone, you know, either of you.”

“It’s a little hard to wrap our heads around sometimes, Kitten,” Sirius said, his voice calm but his expression a little strained. “Give us some time, yeah.”

“‘Course,” she answered. “Drink, please?”

Harry quickly handed her the lukewarm mug of tea, which Sirius waved a hand at to reheat. Hermione smiled her thanks. “We need to get you a wand,” Harry said.

“Soon as I’m legally cleared, I’ll stop by Ollivander’s. He’s a good man; as long as he knows I’m cleared, he won’t cause a fuss,” Sirius said.

“What about your old one?” Harry asked.

“Got disarmed by Pettigrew, it won’t work for me any more,” Sirius grumbled. Harry and Hermione nodded, remembering Neville’s wand problems from the year before, trying to use his father’s wand. “No big deal. I’ll just have to stop by Ollivander’s for a new one. It’s too bad though, I had some great memories with that wand…” He grinned. “I have a lot of stories, like about you and me,” he said to Harry.

“Really?” Harry asked.

Sirius nodded. “Yup, you loved to fly on my flying motorcycle.”

“I used to dream about that,” Harry said, awed. “I never thought… never thought it was real…”

After Hermione handed her mug back to Harry to set aside for her, she closed her eyes and just drifted, half-listening to the conversation.

“It’s real,” Sirius assured him. “Or, it was at least. I’m not sure what happened to it… after everything.”

“I’d love to ride it if you do still have it,” Harry said softly.

Sirius smiled. “Still living up to your nickname, I see,” Sirius said. At Harry’s confused look, he laughed. “Your Mum and Dad called you ‘Speed Demon’ because you were always running some place, always liked to go fast on my broomstick or bike…”

“Still does,” Hermione murmured, half aware. “Scare me to death one of these days…”

Sirius chuckled and Harry rolled his eyes. “Sisters,” Harry said with a shrug.

“As annoying as siblings can be, they generally mean well,” Sirius said, still laughing a little.

“Yeah,” Harry agreed softly. “They’re pretty incredible.”

Harry and Sirius watched movies until George and Jean came home, then helped them make dinner. Hermione napped intermittently, but was wide-awake for dinner and afterwards. By the next day, Hermione was feeling better enough to read whole books and study, though she still tired easily with physical activity. She spent most of the day on the couch again, but this time awake and working. Harry, alternatively, felt awful, but vehemently denied feeling so. He told himself it wasn’t too bad, or at least he’d felt worse and still done a full day’s cleaning. This lasted for two more days until Jean came idly up behind him and felt his forehead. 

“I thought so,” she said unhappily. Everyone stopped and looked over at Harry loading the dishes in the washer. “George, get the thermometer?”

George sighed, exasperated, and went to retrieve the device from the bathroom closet. “I’m fine,” Harry objected. “ _ Really _ .”

“Uh huh, and how long have you felt ‘fine?’”

“Really,” Harry argued weakly. “I’ve worked through worse.”

Hermione sighed this time, took her brother by the hand and led him to the living room couch. “Harry, the sooner you take care of yourself and let us take care of you, the sooner you’ll get better.” She plopped down on one end of the couch, pulled Harry down beside her, and grabbed a blanket to cover them both.

“But Mia…”

Hermione shook her head. “But nothing. You let Dad take your temperature, Mum make you tea, and I’ll read to you from your new history book.”

“Mia…” Harry said again, looking up at her with eyes full of pleading and also confusion.

“Harry… you said it was no trouble to take care of me when I got sick, yeah?” Harry nodded. “So why should it be any different when it’s our turn to take care of you?”

“I… I suppose…”

George brought the thermometer and Harry obediently took it into his mouth under his tongue. Shaking his head slightly at the teen, George brushed Harry’s sweaty hair away from his forehead. When the thermometer beeped, George took it back. “38.5ºC,” he said. “Not terribly high, but enough that we need to watch you, son. You just relax, let your Mum bring you soup, and your sister read to you for a while.”

“But… I… okay,” Harry finally gave in, realizing he wouldn’t win against his parents’ loving care and his sister’s determination. He lay down with his head in Hermione’s lap, and listened to her read as George settled another blanket over him.

Jean had a surgery to perform that morning, but George had the morning off, so he stayed around the house. He seemed to have some kind of sensor every time Harry tried to get off the couch. He hadn’t seemed all that surprised when Harry’s lozenge he’d tucked in his cheek, like he had the last two days, ran out and he’d started coughing hard. Sirius and Remus both looked worriedly at him, Sirius refusing to leave Harry’s side. 

Harry dozed off at one point, waking up all of a sudden from a nightmare and bursting into a coughing fit from his sudden intake of air. Sirius was sitting him up and pressing a warm mug of tea into his hands as Harry finally admitted to himself that his entire body ached, he had chills, and every swallow hurt. 

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Sirius asked after his coughs died down. “Did the Dursleys hit you if you were sick? Honestly?”

Harry thought about it, and thought about it hard, for a moment. “Hermione thinks I have a saving people thing,” he croaked. “And I don’t, not really. It’s more like… I’ve been told all my life that I’m not worth… that I’m not a priority. The Dursleys told me my father got drunk and killed himself and my mother in a car crash and I hadn’t had the decency to die with them, so my Aunt and Uncle were burdened with me.” 

Sirius had gone pale as Harry drank the rest of his tea and sagged as his symptoms flared up and overwhelmed his senses. “Remus?” Sirius asked shakily. “Please tell me Harry is sicker than we previously thought? Please tell me that isn’t true.”

Remus shook his head sadly. “I’m pretty sure it’s quite true, Pads.”

“It is,” Hermione said softly from the doorway to the kitchen. She had a dose of cough syrup in one hand and a fresh mug of honey ginger tea in the other. They still had plenty of the treats Harry had made for her, but she didn’t think he’d stay awake long enough to eat a popsicle and the dripping juice would make a mess. 

She approached the couch and eased to the floor beside Harry. “Take this, please, little brother. I know it tastes bad, but then I have some lovely hot tea for you.” She held the little cup of medicine up to his lips and waited for him to open his mouth. She was patient, knowing he wasn’t used to this kind of care. “It’s okay, Harry. We’ve got you. Just take this bit of potion, okay?”

When his lips finally parted, she poured the medicine onto his tongue. “Good, luv, good. Swallow that down. I know, it’s awful, but it’ll be gone in a moment.” She watched him make a face as he swallowed the medicine. “Not so bad, see? And now here’s your tea, a reward for taking your medicine,” she coaxed him. 

Hermione had many memories of her mother caring for her through a bad illness. And even though her mother wasn’t there, Hermione knew all the things that made her feel better when she was sick. So she used them on Harry. “Such a good little brother. Just rest against Uncle Sirius, now. He’s got you. You’re safe.”

“Mia,” Harry mumbled, his hand flailing as he went limp in Sirius’s arms. Hermione moved to sit up on the couch beside them, taking his hand and leaning into Harry so he knew she was there. 

“I’m right here. We’re here, and you’re safe and we’re gonna get you better,” she crooned softly to him, feeling him relax slowly. “Shh, now. Rest. Do you want me to read some more?”

“How about I tell you both a story,” Sirius said thickly, his eyes glued to the two teens beside him. “About when I was living with Harry’s first Mum and Dad at Potter Manor.”

“Please?” Harry asked in a muffled voice.

“All right.” Sirius shifted so they were all more comfortable, the blanket tucked closely around Harry, before he began to speak. “I lived in a different wing of the house, but we still spent all our time together. We all had gotten jobs to help with the war, so we worked pretty long hours, and when we weren’t at work together, we’d play games, or read, or write stories to tell each other. Once in a great while, we’d pop over to the Three Broomsticks for a pint. After about six months of this, James got it in his head that he needed to host a Christmas party for all our friends. The morning rose sunny and cold. It had snowed heavily the night before, but the clouds had then disappeared, as if by magic. The Manor house-elves, Dibby and Pipsy, has done a most excellent job of decorating every inch of the downstairs in evergreen trees and garland. Still, James was uncharacteristically stressed out. I hadn’t seen him so wound up since the night before his first date with Lily, you understand, so naturally I felt it my responsibility to get the truth out of him -“

“Pads,” Moony whispered from the entry to the kitchen. 

Sirius looked up and both kids were fast asleep. Remus came in and sat down on the floor near Sirius. “A car crash?” Sirius asked. 

Remus shrugged. “It’s a relatively easy way to explain for Muggles about why the parents died and the child didn’t. The bit about James being drunk and it being his fault, well… I suppose in some ways, Petunia probably blamed James for Lily being involved in the war. It might have even been unconscious, but showed up in her anger. By the time Harry was old enough to remember it, the whole family had heard about it.”

“I don’t really understand this ‘drunk driving’ thing,” Sirius admitted.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to overhear,” George said from the doorway. “I was headed upstairs. But I can explain, if you’d like.”

“Please,” Sirius said, gesturing the other man over. “Just keep it quiet.” He nodded towards the sleeping children curled together and leaning against his side.

George grabbed a camera from the coffee table drawer and snapped a picture of the sleeping pair, then put it away again as he took a seat. He sighed, then began to explain in a low voice. “Alcohol is known to have effects on the body. Even if you feel okay, it can affect your reflexes and your judgement. It’s worse if you’re actually to the point of feeling tipsy or drunk; then you’re definitely compromised, but also probably confident enough in yourself to get into trouble. Driving requires quick thinking, quick reflexes, and the ability to react to changing circumstances. Thus it’s illegal to drive a vehicle while drunk, because the likelihood of an accident happening is much greater. In extreme cases, your vehicle could hit another vehicle and injure or kill everyone in both cars.”

“So what you’re saying is not just that they told Harry he should’ve died with his parents,” Sirius growled lowly. “But also that they died because his father did something stupid to get them both killed. Something completely avoidable, if not for overconfidence and alcohol.”

George nodded sadly. “Essentially, yes.” He sighed. “It’s times like this when I regret letting Jean talk me out of pressing charges against those awful people. But she was right to say that it wouldn’t really help Harry, and would cause him more stress in being required to testify against them.”

Sirius nodded. “The Wizarding world would lose their minds if they ever found out Harry was raised Muggle,” he said. 

“You don’t think we might have a fight on our hands, do you?” George asked worriedly.

Sirius shook his head. “By law, at most he’d be given back to me, and we’d still be here,” he explained. “I know… at first I wasn’t sure about all this, but honestly, the six of us make sense. It might be awhile before I have my head on straight, and this way I’ve got three other people here helping me out when I need it. Hell, Moony’s actually getting consistent meals now for the first time since we were at Hogwarts.”

“Did he tell you that we offered him a job, before we found out he was teaching at Hogwarts this year?” George asked, slanting a glance at Remus.

“Did you, now?” Sirius raised an eyebrow, glancing at Remus. “No, he didn’t tell me.”

“It’s a moot point, since I  _ am _ teaching this year,” Remus said with a shrug. “Though the position is cursed, so we may need to reconsider that point during summer hols.”

“At least once I’m exonerated, I’ll regain access to my family vaults,” Sirius said with a sigh. “I never minded the idea of living on my inheritance, but I feel a little bad that I’m not contributing to the household here all that much.”

George waved off his concern. “Jean and I own a successful business, and we’ve been saving for Hermione’s education since she was born. Harry’s tuition is being covered by his trust account with Gringotts. We have been buying his clothing, supplies and such, but we’re not in any distress financially and we’re happy to do it. We won’t refuse your assistance if you decide to work or whatever, but you don’t need to worry about us and money.”

“I don’t know if you knew this, but I’m from a fairly wealthy family myself,” Sirius murmured. “The sole heir to a significant fortune. So I think… I think it’s best we work something out. Whether or not I work. At the very least for room and board.”

“I suppose we could arrange something,” George relented. “We are aware that Harry is quite wealthy in his own right, or will be when he comes of age. I assure you, Jean and I have no intention of taking advantage of that fact. The kids told us the blood bond they did means Hermione has equal right to those assets, subject to Harry as head of house or some such, and we’re content knowing that if anything happens to us before we’re old and retired, she will be taken care of and still have family.”

“She’ll definitely be protected,” Sirius said. “Both of them, if I can help it. I don’t like all these secrets Dumbledore is keeping. It makes me worry about what’s really going on.”

“Both of us,” Remus added.

Before George could speak, he heard the door open. “I’m home!” Jean called. Hermione sat up blinking blearily while Harry rolled over and grunted. Sirius rubbed Harry’s back gently in comfort. “Hello dear,” Jean said. “You should get going, yeah?”

George sighed, “Probably, yeah.” He knelt down next to Harry and brushed his son’s bangs out of his face. “Hey kiddo,” George murmured.” Harry cracked his eyes open. “I’m gonna go, but your Mum’s here.” Harry nodded wordlessly. 

“How’re you feeling kiddo?” Jean asked. 

Harry frowned. “Headache,” he admitted, closing his eyes again.

“When was his last dose of tylenol?” Jean asked. Sirius and Remus looked mildly confused, so Jean glanced at George, who was getting his coat.

“He had cough syrup with tylenol in it about an hour ago,” George said to Jean.

Jean brushed the top of Harry’s head. “Poor baby. I think I know something that can help. Sirius can we trade places?” Jean asked. Sirius agreed and helped move Harry’s head into Jean’s lap. She took her fingers and rubbed both sides of Harry’s head at the temples. Harry couldn’t help but sigh out of relief.

When Sirius sat down on the loveseat instead, just watching Jean and Harry, Hermione moved over to sit next to him. She grabbed a blanket of her own and settled herself against Sirius’s chest. Sirius blinked in surprise for a moment, then smiled fondly at her and helped her adjust so they were both comfortable. “All right, Kitten?”

“Still kinda sleepy,” she admitted. “But I’m definitely on the mend. Would you maybe tell me another story, please? Maybe about becoming an animagus?”

“Well, at the end of our second year we cornered Moony, well, about being Moony. Moony starts ranting about how we don’t have to be friends with him any more and he wasn’t worth risking our reputations over being friends with a werewolf and James walked over and slapped him on the back of his head, then said that he was our friend and no furry little problem was ever going to get in the way of that. Then James said that the only solution was to learn how to become animagi. So when we started our third year, that’s when we began teaching ourselves. Moony always told us he wasn’t worth all the trouble. What we were doing was illegal, after all. If we’d been caught… but that’s who James was. He didn’t care about what the law said or the consequences, as long as it was the right thing to do.”

“Chaotic good,” Jean murmured with a smirk. 

“Sounds like an accurate description of the twins,” Hermione smirked.

Remus smiled sadly. “James took friendship and loyalty seriously,” he explained. “He once told me the Hat nearly put him in Hufflepuff due to his strength of character. That’s why Peter’s betrayal, or rather us thinking it was Sirius, was so hurtful. Because James Potter would cut off a limb for a stranger and die for his friends. And for someone to betray him like that… it hurt more than you can understand.”

Hermione frowned. “I can understand…” she started to say.

“No,” Remus insisted. “You really can’t.”

“Maybe not to that extreme,” Hermione conceded. “But for Harry and I… Ron was our best friend. The other leg of our triangle. And when he turned on us… that was a betrayal too.”

“I know you feel that way now,” Sirius said gently. His eyes gained a haunted look. “But when you’re older… Merlin, I hope you never understand. We were brothers, all four of us. We weren’t just best friends… we clicked, that first night, all of us in that dorm room. And we just knew that it would always be like that. Right up until it wasn’t.”

Hermione looked down and away, feeling inadequate and unable to help the people she loved. She felt that way sometimes in the AA meetings, too. Knowing she could never fully understand what her family-friends had been through was so hard. But she tried to make sure they never knew it, so it wouldn’t burden them too.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured instead.

“Don’t be,” Remus reassured her. Sirius gave her a little hug. “We don’t  _ want _ you to understand. Because people who understand have gone through it too, and know what it feels like to lose everything. Harry, Sirius and I lost our entire world in one night because one man told Voldemort one thing - their address. It’s not about you being too young or not having enough knowledge. It’s about having the experience. I’m willing to bet your Mum and Dad don’t understand.”

“I really don’t…” Jean said. “I can’t even imagine if Aunt Susan or Uncle Paul betrayed us like that… and frankly I don’t want to.”

Hermione thought hard, thinking about her family. The people who loved her unconditionally. She realized that she didn’t understand someone giving that up for power or security. She concluded that Uncle Remus was right - there were some things she couldn’t understand no matter how hard she studied and learned. And he was right that she shouldn’t want to. Even if it might help her help her family better.

“I don’t want you to either,” Harry said softly. Hermione blinked and looked up at him. “You’re… you’re the good part of my life, Mia. You brought me to Mum and Dad, who brought me back to Uncle Moony, and now Uncle Padfoot is here. You gave me family again, then without hesitation brought me what was left of my old one. But Pettigrew… Pettigrew stole  _ love _ away from me. From us. He forced fame onto me. A fame I never wanted. And while I love being part of this family, there’s alway going to be a part of me who wishes he was ‘nobody Harry Potter,’ oldest son of Lily and James, maybe brother to several younger siblings...” 

“I know you do, Harry,” Hermione answered in a subdued tone. “And part of me wishes you could have that, even if it meant I never had you in my life. But I love having you here, all three of you. I love knowing that someone in the magical community other than me actually  _ cares _ whether my parents live or die, should anti-muggle war come back to us. But I also want to make everything right for you, and I know I  _ can’t _ . Not even with magic.” She sniffled a little. “You know, when I was little, I thought magic could do anything. Now I understand that there are some things that just can’t be done or undone, no matter how powerful the spell or the love behind it.”

“My mother always said she was glad she wasn’t a witch,” Remus said. “‘Magic doesn’t simplify life, it just makes room for more complicated nonsense.’ She used to say that all the time, and it wasn’t until I was an adult that I realized she was right. After all, no muggle has ever had to deal with turning into a werewolf.”

“What happens to a muggle bitten by a werewolf?” Hermione asked. “Unless they just die, then they would have to deal with it on top of suddenly being part of a larger magical world.” She sighed. “Though that’s not a happy thought, either.”

Remus frowned, thinking. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a muggle surviving their first full moon. Think of lycanthropy like a virus. Wizarding constitutions are built differently, we’re stronger. So when the virus attacks the immune system, we still have some immune system left, while muggles essentially they lose their human side entirely. ”

Hermione frowned. “You are not a disease, Uncle Moony.”

Sirius snorted from behind her. “Keep telling him that, Kitten. Maybe he’ll start to believe  _ you _ . Someday.”

“When you say it like that, somehow I doubt it.” Hermione rolled her eyes. “Don’t think I won’t try, though.”

“We’re a right bunch, aren’t we?” Sirius said in a teasing tone, though the joke fell a little flat. “At least we can be a right bunch together, ey?”

“Well, I know it’s not what you’re used to, the three of you,” Jean said firmly. “But in this household, family is forever. Yes, you all have problems and some things you need to heal from. So do most people. But we’re here for you, even if we can’t understand what you’re dealing with.”

“It’s too bad the wizarding world doesn’t have therapists,” Harry said in a raspy voice.

“It’s on my list of Things To Fix when we’re old enough to have some influence on how things are,” Hermione told him with a hint of a smile. “Along with fixing Muggle Studies, instituting an Introduction to the Wizarding World seminar for muggle-borns, and bringing the Wizarding World into the twentieth century for at least some aspects of law and society.”

Harry laughed, which turned into a cough, which led to him needing several swallows of his tea before he could respond. “Good thing we have several friends with influential family names, then, Mia. I expect we’re going to need them!”

“I’m sure we will. And I’m equally sure that in the meantime, we’ll find more things to add to that list,” Hermione’s expression turned mischievous. “We’re gonna shake things up, if we can.”

“As someone who grew up in the Wizarding World with a very traditional family,” Sirius said with a sharp grin, “I say ‘it’s about bloody time!’”

“Abuse seems to be the norm in the Wizarding World, and that isn’t okay!” Hermione exclaimed.

“No, it’s not,” Jean agreed. “But you’re working on that a little at a time, and we’re all behind you, your brother, and your friends. You can’t change the world in an instant, luv, but you can work to make it a better place.”

Jean then went over to Harry and put her hand on his forehead. “You feel better,” Jean said. “You should be better in time for term to start.”

A few days later, Padfoot, Remus, George and Jean saw the kids off at Kings Cross. It wasn’t nearly as much of a crush in the car as it had been previously, since Remus apparated himself back to Hogwarts and because he shrunk their school trunks down for them for the trip.

There were hugs all around, and extra scritches for Padfoot, and then Harry followed Hermione onto the train. They waved goodbye to their family as the train pulled away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to everyone, as always, for lovely comments and feedback. Seriously, guys, you make our days when you reach out and tell us what you think!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to school we go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the post is a little late today. Life happens; we're sure you all understand.
> 
> Many thanks, as always, for all the wonderful comments we've gotten! You guys are the best!

The day after term started, Harry couldn’t concentrate. He knew at the time, Sirius was interviewing with Amelia Bones. All throughout the day, Hermione kept sending Harry glances with encouraging smiles, squeezing his hand, or sneaking him hugs. She knew that nothing she could say would encourage him or make him feel better, but wanted to remind Harry that he wasn’t alone in his worry. They’d just have to wait until they heard the results of Sirius’s interview.

“Mr. Potter,” McGonagall said, coming up behind them at dinner. “I need to see you in my office.”

Hermione stood up as well, but was forestalled by the Professor. “You can come pick Mr. Potter up after dinner, Miss Granger,” McGonagall said. Hermione sighed but nodded and sat back down to finish eating. Harry followed McGonagall towards her office; Sirius had Harry in his arms the second Harry opened McGonagall’s office door.

“I’m free, Harry,” Sirius said, crying. “I’m free.”

Harry gasped as he looked at Remus who nodded in confirmation. Harry laughed joyfully and hugged his Godfather tight. Despite the smile that went from ear to ear, he was crying. “You’re free! That’s  _ so _ great!”

“Daily Prophet is going to run the story tomorrow,” Remus said, smiling serenely. “Which is why I’m taking Sirius back home tonight. We want to keep out of the limelight for a while.”

“Okay,” Harry agreed. “I’ll see you at Easter Break certainly.”

“Hopefully I’ll be back to visit sooner than that,” Sirius said. “But I have a lot of work to do meanwhile. I need to open my family’s London house and check on my family’s vaults and other properties. Besides, plenty of former friends are going to be sending me owls with invitations to luncheon, pretending they didn’t turn on me immediately.”

“Sounds like a lot to do,” Harry agreed. “At least it will keep you busy?”

“For a while, at least,” Sirius said. “And said former friends can’t find me at home, so that will help a little. No one can harass me if they can’t find me.”

“I’m glad you’ll have a place to be safe. And people to help you when you need it, or just be company if you want,” Harry said with a small smile. He knew his Mum and Dad wouldn’t let Sirius go nuts being alone. They’d all worked together over the holidays to help Sirius stabilize, and Harry knew that wouldn’t have changed just because the school term started again.

“Speaking of home, where’s Hermione?” Remus asked, head cocked curiously.

“I thought this was a moment Mr. Potter and Mr. Black should have to themselves,” McGonagall responded. “She should be along shortly.”

Remus nodded and found an unobtrusive spot from which to observe his brother and his nephew. True to McGonagall’s word, about five minutes later there was a knock at the door. Harry clung to Sirius as if he let him go, he would disappear, and Sirius clung back in equal measure.

Sirius looked up, startled. “Who would be..?” He trailed off, tensing into fight-or-flight mode.

McGonagall shook her head, smiling a little to calm him. “That’s likely Miss Granger.” She crossed over to the door to look out briefly before stepping back to allow the girl inside as well.

Hermione entered, carrying both her own and Harry’s book bags. She dropped both to the floor when she took in the sight of Sirius, Harry and Remus. “You came… it’s over?” she asked hopefully.

“I’m free!” Sirius told her jubilantly. Hermione ran over and hugged both Sirius and Harry tightly. Sirius freed one arm from around Harry and pulled Hermione close as well. “I’m free, Kitten,” he murmured again. McGonagall looked fairly surprised at the remaining Marauder’s reactions to Hermione. And hers to him, for that matter. The girl was typically affectionate, but she had walls up towards people she didn’t know well. Their interactions said a great deal to her Head of House.

“It’s not quite over yet,” Remus clarified. “There’s still Pettigrew’s trial to get through. But the Prophet will be running the announcement that Sirius was falsely incarcerated and has been exonerated. Until then, he’ll be safest at home.”

“Not that it’s going to be that hard,” Sirius admitted softly. “Jean’s been making sure that I always have something to do. I don’t have much down time.”

Harry nodded. He knew that the news that his godfather was innocent of the mass murder he’d been accused of was going to draw more attention to Harry. His godfather had been falsely imprisoned for killing his parents, so of course his peers and teachers alike would all look at Harry the next morning when the owls delivered the paper. Students mostly had stopped staring at Harry for his status as ‘The Boy Who Lived’, but he was almost certain this was going to start them up again.

On the other hand, at least this time he’d have something to say when people asked him how he felt about the situation. He was thrilled that Sirius had been proven innocent and while nothing could bring his parents back, at least he now had a greater connection to his parents. Well, his birth-parents, but since hardly anybody knew he had a new Mum and Dad, he’d have to leave that part out.

It also helped him because he now had someone who could come to Hogwarts and officially fight for him. “Yeah?” he prompted Sirius, curious about what Jean and George was having his Godfather do to keep him busy.

“The muggle world has a lot of paperwork,” Sirius said with a laugh. “And muggle dentistry is… odd. Interesting, but odd. Like most things, wizards just use a spell when their kids are born.”

Hermione laughed softly. “Well, muggles can’t do that. What kind of spell, though?” she asked, curiously. “Just something to keep teeth healthy forever?”

“Basically, yes,” Sirius said. “The spell ensures that you get no cavities, your enamel is protected, your teeth come in completely straight. Any injuries are just corrected by a mediwitch or wizard.”

“Well, that would put my parents out of business,” Hermione quipped, though her expression was wistful. She knew she was likely going to need braces in a year or two, given the way her teeth were shaping up. It would be nice not to need them, especially since she’d have to explain to everyone in school what they were for. She was fairly sure the purebloods would view it as some sort of muggle torture.

“Can you only use it on babies?” Harry asked, curious. He doubted it would save him from Jean’s dental exams, but it’d be nice to never have to worry about getting cavities.

“I… don’t know.” Sirius said. “I confess I’ve never been interested in that sort of things. It’s something we take for granted, I suppose. Your mother set it up for you right away, of course,” he added for Harry’s benefit. Harry blinked, then smiled.

“It can be used on older children as well, though it’s a little tricker once your adult teeth start coming in,” McGonagall broke in gently. “But given that you’re muggle-born, Miss Granger, I’m sure if you asked nicely Professor Flitwick or Madam Pomfrey would be happy to perform the charm for you.”

Professor Flitwick was, of course, thrilled to be asked. Hermione couldn’t stop running her tongue over her teeth for the rest of the evening as she adjusted to the way her suddenly straight and appropriately-sized teeth felt in her mouth.

The next morning was chaos, but Harry couldn’t help but feel a weight being lifted off of his chest.  _ Everyone _ , and Harry did mean everyone, was talking about the fact that Sirius Black was innocent. Harry ignored the whispers and stares, actually thankful that they had Double Potions class that day. Snape, in his own way, banned everyone from making a spectacle of Harry by taking points from Lavender and Parvati Patil who had been gossiping in the back about it. He glared hatefully at Harry for the benefit of the Slytherins, but couldn’t find anything to take points about, so he ended up glowering as he walked away. Harry was careful not to have anything out of place with his potion or his work station for that class so that Snape couldn’t take points. .

It was easy enough to lose himself in the process of carefully preparing ingredients and following the meticulous steps needed for the potion. Harry and Hermione were the first ones done, again, but that was as much because they were ignoring the whispers and not wasting time as due to any proficiency. Snape accepted their potion without a word, and snapped at the rest of the class that they only had ten minutes left and so help them if they turned in incomplete potions.

Harry was also growing to love Arithmancy. It wasn’t quite like maths, but it was studying the magic of certain numbers, which  _ was _ pretty interesting. The Professor, Vector, was extremely strict. She made sure during their first class they understood that if they were going to fool around or socialize during her class, they shouldn’t show up. So it wound up being another class where Harry and Hermione were free from whispers and endless staring. The homework was always extremely complicated, though. Despite the difficulty, it was Hermione’s favorite subject. 

Harry also really liked Ancient Runes, which they’d have the following day. It was the same as learning a different language, which was also something his sister was good at - he’d discovered a while back that she knew the basics of several languages of Europe. 

Directly after classes, Harry made a beeline for the library, Hermione at his heels. He was rather surprised to see Draco waiting for them in the AA room. “Is it true? Is Black really innocent?” Draco asked Harry. “Or are the papers lying in some sort of ruse to draw him out?”

Harry put down his bag and grinned. “It’s true,” Harry confirmed. Draco paled and Harry noticed there was actually… hope in Draco’s eyes. “Why?”

“Black is the head of my mother’s house,” Draco said. “And as my father and I are the last Malfoys, if my father is incapacitated and I’m not yet of age, Black is the one who can report things.”

“He would also be a head of house who might be able to step in and file a report on your father, wouldn’t he?” Hermione asked quietly. “Particularly if he’s also mistreating your mother?” Draco had made no mention of such a thing before, but privately Hermione doubted Lucius Malfoy’s ire was only ever directed at his son.

Draco nodded nervously. “He’s also… the heads of the maternal house have historically been known to… hide heirs. It’s not exactly legal but the Wizengamot doesn’t prosecute those cases. It’s considered a ‘family matter.’ Particularly if the heir is the sole remaining carrier of a family name.”

“So, if or when war breaks out… Sirius would be within his rights to hide you, and Lucius couldn’t do anything about it, legally,” Harry concluded. “That’s… actually a pretty smart system. It’s not like Voldemort has a monopoly on being the world’s only evil wizard.” Harry was suddenly very glad for how patient Theo was, walking him through Magical history. Muggle history hadn’t been Harry’s best subject, so having to learn a second set of events was difficult, and sometimes confusing, but Theo was patient until Harry understood the particular topic he was teaching at the time.

“We were already thinking along those lines anyway,” Hermione told Draco softly. “I mean, knowing Sirius can do it legally certainly helps. But… we were going to offer you and the others a place to hide anyway.”

“Next time he stops in, would you like to meet him?” Harry asked. “I’m sure we could get him down here so it would be private.”

“What’s he like?” Draco asked, obviously hoping for a positive answer and delaying answering the question until he had more information.

“He’s fun and he’s funny,” Harry began with a smile. “I mean, he has some problems after… well, after twelve years in Azkaban. But he’s getting help with that and he  _ is _ still sane. I promise. He’s got a history of being a prankster, and like a lot of Gryffindors he doesn’t always think things through before jumping into action.”

“In some ways, he’s still the same 21-year-old that he was when he went to prison,”  Hermione mused thoughtfully. “He enjoys being the ‘fun uncle’ and probably always will. He has accepted my - our - family, though. He’s actually staying in a magically extended wing of our house.”

“He’s planning to reopen the family properties and see what state the family vaults are in, ” Harry explained. “That ought to keep him busy for a while. There really hasn’t been any upkeep or changes since he was in prison.”

“I think I would like to meet him,” Draco finally said, his tone hopeful. “I would… would like the chance to show him that I’m worth helping.”

“Of course you’re worth helping,” Hermione insisted. She started towards Draco, then held herself back visibly. “Drat. If you were Harry, I’d be hugging you right now. But… I don’t want to imp-” She was cut off by Draco rushing over and crushing her in a tight embrace. Hermione wrapped her arms around him firmly. “Impose,” she finished in a very soft voice.

“I haven’t had anyone say they wanted to hug me other than my mum, and then not since before Hogwarts,” Draco admitted quietly.

“I’m happy to give them out,” Hermione assured him, fully prepared to hold Draco for as long as he needed her to. “Harry said it before - you guys are all family now. And it’s okay to hug brothers or sisters or cousins, or to touch casually.”

Draco released Hermione with a laugh. “You might regret saying that if the others hear about it.”

“Hermione, regret offering hugs? I doubt it,” Harry laughed along with Draco. Hermione just grinned cheekily at them. “It’s like she’s got an endless supply of them.”

“Who’s got an endless supply of what?” Theo asked from the doorway, Blaise right behind him.

“Hermione’s hugs,” Harry explained. “I’m pretty sure she’s got this need to get me used to physical contact. And now Sirius and Draco are added to that list. And you, I’m pretty sure, if you’d like. I’m still getting used to it, I confess.”

“I won’t make you,” Hermione said with a sigh. “But not all touch is bad or has to hurt. So Harry gets hugs and Sirius gets hugs and Draco gets hugs when he wants. And you guys can too. I really don’t mind.”

“You’re such a girl, Athena,” Blaise said with a chuckle. He walked casually over and gave Hermione a brief hug. “But I’m glad to have you in my life,  _ cara. _ ”

“You too,  _ caro _ ,” she replied, then grinned when Blaise’s eyes widened in surprise.

“I’m… not used to touch,” Theo admitted. “I’m not sure…”

“In your own time,” Hermione assured him. “You tell me when it’s okay.” 

Theo nodded slowly and ghosted the tips of his fingers over the back of her hand, relaxing slowly when she didn’t tense up or make any movement at all other than to watch him carefully. He smiled when he realized that she really did mean it and she nodded back. “We’ll work on it,” Theo said quietly.

“You’re not bad, as blokes go, Harry,” Draco said, ignoring Hermione and Theo for the moment. “You’re certainly more interesting that Crabbe and Goyle. Kinda makes you wonder…”

“What would have happened?” Harry asked. “If things had started differently?” Draco nodded. “I’ve thought about it, too.”

“What made you think about it?” Blaise asked, curiosity piqued.

Harry shrugged. “Couple of things. This stuff with Ron, primarily. If he hadn’t been nice to me at first and shared candy, he probably wouldn’t have been there for Draco and him to start bickering when Draco came to officially introduce himself. It could have changed a lot of things.”

“What else?” Blaise asked, knowing there was more.

“You remember that both Harry and I were hatstalls?” Hermione asked. The group generally nodded. “The Hat considered both of us for multiple houses. The biggest reason I’m not a Slytherin is my blood status.”

The Slytherin boys looked stunned. “But… but you’re, like, the Gryffindor Princess!” Draco protested.

“She’s not,” Harry responded with a laugh. “You have no idea how shrewd she can be. I, technically, wasn’t so much of a hatstall as I had to argue with the hat so I wasn’t put in Slytherin,” Harry said.

“Why? Why argue, I mean?” Theo asked.

“Because in the twelve hours I’d been in the wizarding world, I hadn’t heard anything good about the house,” Harry answered with a shrug. “I was told that all the Dark Wizards in recent history had all come from Slytherin, and regardless if that was over-stating it or not, the only person I’d met who wanted to be in Slytherin was...” 

“Me,” Draco said.

“I think it’s a little ridiculous that personality traits you have at eleven cause you to be sorted into a House that will let other people judge you for the rest of your life,” Hermione said with a sniff. “While the basis of one’s personality is theoretically set by about the age of five or six, people do a  _ lot _ of growing and changing in their teen years.”

“I mean, it makes some sense,” Draco said. “I’d have a hard time rooming with a Gryffindor or a Ravenclaw. Gryffindors are typically glory-hounds and Ravenclaws rarely care about anything other than learning. And some theorize that the hat is sorting people by much more complex means than the traits it describes in song. It’s the stereotypes that cause the issue. We reduce each other down to parts of ourselves rather than the whole.”

Hermione shrugged. “I’m rooming with a couple of vapid girls who seem to care more about their appearances and gossip than anything else. I mean, push comes to shove, they did back me against Ron - but probably mostly because Ron was bad-mouthing girls as a whole and not just me. Just because we were sorted into the same house doesn’t mean we actually have anything in common with our roommates.”

Draco shrugged. “I didn’t say it works out every time. It’s just what typically happens. Dorm mates don’t always gel, but you find people. Look at you, you have Harry, and the older Weasleys and the Gryffindor chasers. You do have people who care about you in your House.”

“Sure I do. But I also have you three, Luna and Melody in Ravenclaw, and Cedric and Adella in Hufflepuff. Houses and House rivalries would normally keep a group like this from forming, though,” Hermione pointed out. “I mean, if we hadn’t seen the signs and started bringing together the group for mutual support, would any of us be friends outside our Houses?”

“Maybe a few,” Harry mused. “You, Luna and Neville all hit it off pretty well despite houses. But we’re also hatstalls, remember, so we have more in common with everyone.”

“But probably not a group like this, no,” Blaise agreed. The discussion paused as the rest of the group entered quietly and hellos were exchanged.

“I’m just saying that the sorting does make sense, because it’s about who we’d be able to tolerate living with for seven years,” Draco said. “The lack of House unity… that could be worked on.”

“I’m not saying the House system doesn’t make sense,” Hermione said with a sigh. “I’m saying that I think eleven is too young to be stuck with a label you’re going to wear for the rest of your life. I have heard a couple of adults protest about another because of what House they were in school. It seems like a convenient excuse not to like someone. Though I do agree that inter-house unity is something that should be worked on.”

“Friendly rivalry is one thing, but the outright animosity… there’s no real reason for it,” Harry agreed.

“Honestly, I think any age is too young to be stuck with a label,” Marcus said, frowning.

“I’m Hufflepuff and proud,” Adella agreed. “But I’m more than just a Hufflepuff. I have more to me than the traits of Hogwarts describes.”

“We all do,” Blaise told her. “That’s kinda what sparked this discussion to begin with. Apparently our intrepid Gryffindors could have been snakes, too,” he teased.

“I often thought Hermione would do well in Ravenclaw,” Melody said. “And Theo, honestly.”

“Think of it more as the sorting determining what your strongest inclinations are, rather than your only defining personality traits,” Cedric suggested. “Maybe then it won’t bother you so much. I think most people have a little bit of every house in them, but not all of those are strong traits.”

“And better unity cross-house is a really good idea,” Adella added. “Most of the ‘Puffs would be for it anyway, but we’re in general less inclined towards rivalry. Making peace between Gryffindor and Slytherin would probably be more work.”

“For most of the Gryffindors, we’re already halfway there,” Draco nodded. Harry’s eyebrows raised and Draco scoffed. “Oh come on. Gryffindor would follow you into a volcano if you asked them to, and not because you’re ‘The-Boy-Who-Lived’.”

“He’s not wrong,” Neville spoke up. “You’re well-liked in Gryffindor, Harry. You have all the Weasleys, bar one, on your side, the rest of the Quidditch team, and our Head of House behind you. Plus, when you and Hermione work together and set your mind on something - well, just look how far we’ve all come in a year and a half. If anyone could do it, you can.”

“Slytherin may not be as hard to convince as you’d think, either,” Marcus said. “How many of the first through third years are only parroting what their parents say about Muggles? How many just don’t know any better?”

“There are already quite a few questioning muggle and muggle-born inferiority. Because just look at Hermione,” Blaise stated. Hermione blinked at him, but didn’t interrupt. “She’s highly intelligent, powerfully magical, has taken to learning magic extremely quickly, and is the top of our class. If muggles are weak and stupid, then how is she beating the pants off the purebloods in school?”

“And she’s not the only one,” Luna said quietly. “Just the most visible, because of her association with Harry and her position at the top of the class.”

“I’m good at school,” Hermione pointed out. “But just because I score well in school, doesn’t mean I’m a better witch than anyone.”

“I don’t know if there really is a definitive way of measuring what a ‘good’ witch or wizard is,” Blaise interjected.

“What it does make you is a more knowledgeable witch,” Melody pointed out. “And potentially a more powerful one; witches and wizards with more innate power tend to learn magic more quickly and easily.”

“Innate power is something you’re just born with,” Draco added.

“And power is everything,” Theo pointed out. “Some theorize that it’s somewhat genetic, that older families have more powerful children.”

“Really?” Harry asked curiously.

Draco nodded. “Certain families start to pick up certain magics that all members have. Like the Malfoys are good at Potions.”

“I’m told the Potters are good at Defense,” Harry said.

“Professor Snape implied that as the first of my line, my inclinations will likely define whatever magical trait my descendents will have,” Hermione mused. 

“The power to read hundreds of pages in one sitting?” Neville teased.

“Oh, ha ha,” Hermione grumbled. “At the moment, it’s looking like I’m leaning towards either Arithmancy or Ancient Runes, but only time will tell from what little I know about it.” Hermione made a face. “There’s very little in the Library at all about how family magical traits are developed.”

“It’s basically instinctive magic rather than what you’re interested in or what you like,” Draco explained. “Like Harry’s just able to duel without too much instruction.” It was true. While Snape had walked the others through dueling over the last year, Harry had picked it up as if by magic. It had taken a while for Snape to get Harry to stop sticking to only one or two offensive spells during a duel, but he picked up on the forms much faster than the others. Particularly the more defense-oriented forms.

“I don’t know what I do instinctively,” Hermione said thoughtfully. “And honestly, it’s more likely for someone else to figure it out. If I’m doing it without thinking, I might not recognize it at the time.”

“Wait, you said ‘as the first of your line,’” Blaise said. “What if that’s the problem with the purebloods? Their magic isn’t as strong as it used to be because the family magics are all intertwined because of the inbreeding?”

“That… would be interesting to figure out,” Hermione said.

“I don’t even know how you remember all of this stuff, Hermione,” Harry groaned. “It was  _ one _ conversation with Professor Snape one afternoon  _ last year _ .”

“But it made me curious!” Hermione protested, laughing. “There are a couple books in the library that covers the topic.”

“Merlin forbid Hermione be left curious about something!” Melody exclaimed, laughing with the younger girl.

“It’d be interesting to study, but it’d take some advanced magic to figure out,” Blaise said thoughtfully. “Maybe we could do it as a NEWT project in a few years?”

“That sounds like fun,” Hermione agreed. “It would probably take several of us working together, though. Especially since we’d probably have to interview or run analysis on purebloods and their magic. Those inquiries are likely to be taken better if they come from you rather than me.”

“We actually have to get back to our current project,” Harry noted. Draco, Blaise, and Theo looked curious. “My birth father and his friends all became animagi during school. We’re doing the same…”

“Isn’t that illegal?” Theo asked.

Harry nodded. “Technically.  But Professor Snape says that we can register it as a school project to a professor, then legally register within 90 days after graduation to avoid breaking any laws.”

“You want to do this to have some connection with your birth parents?” Neville asked, head cocked to one side as he considered the idea.

“There are other reasons, but that is why we started working on it, yes,” Harry replied.

“It’s actually a very interesting process, and a rather rare skill these days,” Hermione said. “But if there really is a war coming… the more skills we have, the better off we are. Especially if they’re unexpected.”

“Do you think the rest of us could learn?” Adella asked. “It could definitely be useful, and in more ways than one.”

Harry and Hermione exchanged a glance. “I think it wouldn’t hurt to ask,” Harry said finally. “We promised when we were taught the initial spell that we wouldn’t teach it to friends. But Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall could probably be convinced that it’s a good idea.”

“What does it involve?” Theo looked very interested.

“Well, there’s a spell that after a period of meditation will show you your animagus form,” Hermione explained. “After that, there’s a lot of research because it’s not enough to know the animal outwardly. You have to know all its internal structures, bones, muscles, organs, everything. Once you can do that, we’re told there’s a lot of practice involving changing just parts of yourself initially until eventually you can do the complete transfiguration. From what I understand from observing other animagi, eventually you won’t need the spells - you’ll be able to transform at will.”

Marcus grinned. “You may have made a promise not to share the spells, but I didn’t. Animagus training is an optional extra project for Seventh Year Transfiguration. I haven’t managed it yet, but I do know what I’ll be. It’s figuring out the rest that’s so hard… most Wizarding texts don’t cover mundane animals and their internal structures.”

Hermione brightened. “No, but Muggle ones do. Maybe I can get my folks to send us a bunch of biological zoology texts! That should cover most of the generalities, at least. And I know at least a couple of people with more specific books.”

Marcus chuckled. “Muggles study internal structures of animals?” he asked, somehow less surprised than he thought he should be.

“Of course,” Hermione said with a shrug. “Animals, people, plants, down to the cell structure and everything. I would imagine it probably started with butchering meat animals, way back when - if you know how to cut with the underlying structure, you can separate the edible from the inedible much more quickly.”

Harry nodded right away; carving a roast or a whole chicken had become much easier when he learned how the structure worked. Most of the purebloods in the room made faces, though, not enjoying the mental image of an animal becoming food.

“You know, I don’t think I ever gave much thought to how meat went from animal to my plate,” Blaise said dryly. “Not sure I ever wanted to, either, so thanks for that Athena.”

Hermione just laughed at them all. “Poor, pampered wizard boys,” she teased. “Never having to think about how food got onto the table…”

“So, back to the prior topic,” Draco said, looking just a little paler than usual. “Animagus transformations? I think it would be fun.”

“It’ll give us something to do,” Harry added, “since no one is trying to kill me this year.”

“We might not all complete it this year,” Marcus noted. “There are full-grown wizards who can’t, so don’t get too upset if you can’t, but it couldn’t hurt to practice.”

“It’s a good side project to work on,” Melody agreed. “Even if it takes us years, that’s okay. It’s normally not even taught in school, and even then as Marcus said, it’s an optional project. But it never hurts to get a head start, especially if it’s something you really want to do.”

“So, Marcus, this spell?” Theo asked eagerly.

Harry and Hermione exchanged a grin, knowing they could truthfully tell Uncle Moony that they had kept their promise. But it wouldn’t stop the others from learning anyway.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life back at school...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, many thanks to all our readers for fabulous feedback!
> 
> There is a rather delicate conversation about midway through. We hope you will all bear with us through it, and hopefully you'll understand why we wrote what we did after you finish the section.

Harry didn’t think his life could be any better. He had his parents, his godfather and his uncle, everything was good with the AA and with school, so he was a little shocked when McGonagall pulled him out of his Charms class two weeks later looking grim and slightly ill.

“Professor?” Harry asked. There had only been five more minutes of Charms left when McGonagall pulled him out. He and Hermione had already finished the day’s assignment, but they had just been spending the time doing their other homework so Harry was a tiny bit disappointed he was losing the time. “What’s wrong?” he asked as he followed his head of house down the halls.

“You’re needed in the Headmaster’s office,” McGonagall said. She stopped and put a hand on Harry’s shoulder, looking at him sympathetically. “I’m sorry Harry, but it’s really best that your godfather tell you everything.”

“Sirius?” Harry said, sudden fear growing in the pit of his stomach. “He’s here? Why? Is someone hurt?” It couldn’t have been Mum or Dad because they would have spoken with Hermione first. Or at least both of them together.

“No one is hurt, Harry. I promise you. Your family is fine,” McGonagall said patiently. They arrived at the gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore’s office. “Wine gums,” she said and the gargoyle jumped aside. Harry was a little perplexed that Dumbledore’s password was a muggle candy.

Arriving at Dumbledore’s office, Sirius rushed Harry and scooped him up. “Thank Merlin… thank Merlin you’re okay.” 

“As I told you Sirius,” Dumbledore said patiently. “Harry is perfectly safe here at Hogwarts. Apart from a few minor incidents -”

“I wouldn’t call facing Voldemort or a basilisk ‘minor’ incidents, Dumbledore,” Sirius spat. “And this time… this time…”

“What happened,” Harry demanded, getting more worried by the minute.

“Someone anonymously sent Sirius this in the mail,” Remus said, standing by the desk. 

Harry looked over Sirius’ shoulder and saw a skull, but it had a very long nose and it was tiny. “What… what is it?” he asked.

“It’s a puppy skull,” Remus said. Harry looked closer and paled. Someone had carved a lightning bolt into the forehead of the skull. “With a note, warning Sirius not to talk.”

“Talk about what?” Harry asked curiously.

“In Azkaban, you tend to have nightmares where you scream out things. And some Death Eaters screamed out some pretty revealing secrets,” Sirius said quietly, setting Harry down to look into his serious eyes.

“So this…?” Harry began hesitantly.

“Is some bloody bastard’s way of threatening your life if I say anything,” Sirius growled.

“Language, Mr. Black!” McGonagall chided.

Harry only sighed; he knew it was definitely not a good thing to be getting used to threats to his life, but it seemed like they couldn’t get through a year in the Wizarding world without one. First the year started with people thinking Sirius meant to come kill him, then Pettigrew was revealed to have ruined all of their lives, and now this. “I’m probably still safer here than at home,” Harry said lowly. Fortunately, he didn’t have to clarify where he meant by ‘home.’

“It’s true that in a Muggle neighborhood, should you ever be found outside, the protections wouldn’t help you and you couldn’t defend yourself magically,” Remus agreed.

“Listen, we know there’s a threat,” Harry said. “Forewarned is forearmed. The Headmaster and my Head of House both know, and they can make sure the other professors are warned. Hermione and I will be on our guard, and we’ll be as careful as we can.”

“I’m sure there’s no need for too much fuss,” Dumbledore said in a placating manner. “This school is quite well protected.”

Sirius grumbled, and Remus laid a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll keep Harry safe, Sirius.”

“I want him given a quick way to call for help,” Sirius demanded. “Just in case.”

“I’m sure we can arrange something,” McGonagall agreed. “Miss Granger, as well. Everyone knows they watch each other’s backs.”

“Still,” Sirius said. He bit his lip. “I just got him back.” Harry was rather shocked to see Sirius looking distraught. He’d only been with the Grangers for a relatively short time and he was, from time to time, shocked when people cared about him.

“We know, Mr. Black,” McGonagall said. “We remember you and the Potters were family. I promise I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you don’t lose each other again.”

“Has Harry received anything threatening?” Sirius asked.

“No more than usual,” Dumbledore noted.

“Wait…” Harry said. “What?”

“You do get ‘fan mail,’ Mr. Potter,” McGonagall said. “We remove it all for safety purposes. Some of it might be amusing, but much of it is less so. None of it, as of yet, has been dangerous though.”

“Professor Dumbledore,” one of the paintings of old, white men said. “A Miss Granger is requesting entry. Should we allow her? She’s quite anxious.” 

“Allow her entry,” Dumbledore said.

Hermione was biting her lip, her brow furrowed in worry as she entered the office. “Sirus? Is something wrong?” She paused, then recalled her manners. “My apologies Headmaster, Professors. Thank you for allowing me to join you.”

“Of course, Miss Granger,” Dumbledore said in his calm tone.

“Nothing’s wrong other than more death threats in my direction,” Harry said flippantly, though his expression turned remorseful when Hermione paled. “They were sent to Sirius; whomever sent it wants him to keep quiet about what he learned from Death Eaters in Azkaban, or they’ll come after me.”

Hermione sighed. “How unoriginal,” she responded, doing her best to stay calm. Harry certainly seemed to be all right with the situation and she wouldn’t help anyone if she panicked now. “I take it the threat comes too late and you’ve already been talking to people, Sirius?” She had to swallow back the habit of calling him ‘uncle’ since Dumbledore didn’t - couldn’t - know about their family setup.

Sirius stared at Hermione for a long moment. “How can you take this so calmly?” he demanded. “This is Harry’s life at stake!”

With a glance at Harry, who shrugged in reply, Hermione said, “It’s not the first time. And we’ll plan better for his safety if we keep our wits about us. I’m plenty worried, but it won’t help Harry for me to let it bother me to the point where I can’t focus. So I try to stay calm.”

“She’ll fuss over me later,” Harry said with a hint of fondness in his tone. “Also lecture me about going off by myself.”

“Yes well, the last time I let you, you faced Voldemort for the second time and nearly died,” Hermione groused.

“At least I didn’t get expelled,” Harry teased. 

Hermione, more mature than the average fourteen-year-old, was still a teenager and so rolled her eyes at Harry. “I maintain that’s a fate worse than death,” she replied primly, ignoring the smothered laughter from both their uncles.

“Yes, it’s not like any other school wouldn’t take me,” Harry goaded with a wink. “I’m not famous at all.”

“I’m sorry, I thought you were just normal Harry Potter!” Hermione objected. 

“Children,” Dumbledore said, though he appeared very amused. “It seems we have gotten off-topic. What are we going to do, for example, about security?”

“Harry,” Sirius said slowly. “It’s about Hogsmede…”

Harry frowned. “You’re not going to let me go, are you.”

“Just…” Sirius said. “I just got you back. And Moony thought that maybe… since you wanted extra defense lessons…”

“Extra lessons,” Hermione exclaimed.

Harry pulled a face, knowing that it was going to now be impossible to convince them to let him go to Hogsmede. “Fine,” he acquiesced sullenly, toeing his sneaker against the stone floor. “Is there anything else you need me for? Have you hired a childminder to follow me around?”

“Don’t need to. She’s standing right beside you, and she volunteered,” Remus teased. Harry huffed in response.

“I’m fairly sure all of Hogwarts knows that where Mr. Potter is found, Miss Granger is not far away,” McGonagall said with a perfectly straight face, though her eyes held a glimmer of amusement and fondness for the pair of lion cubs in front of her.

“Unless it’s on a broom,” Harry muttered, just loud enough for his sister to hear. She smirked at him rather than reply.

“And still she’s in the stands, even if you’re just going flying,” McGonagall noted. “Which brings us to our next point.”

“No… not Quidditch. Professor McGonagall, this is our year. All we have to do is win, or lose by less than 100 points in the final and we’ve got the cup…” Harry begged. “Some Slytherin could be doing this to make us lose the cup.”

“We aren’t going to keep you from Quidditch, Harry,” Remus said. “But we want an adult with you any time you’re outside. We don’t know what this is, or how many are behind it. We’re just being careful Harry. We need to be careful.”

Harry breathed a sigh of relief, though there were undertones of frustration in his expression. “I suppose I can live with that.”

“I think Professor Lupin would be the best choice of escort for Quidditch practice, actually,” Hermione spoke up. “As a former Gryffindor, whose best friends were on the team in his day, it would make sense for him to be interested in the current team.”

“And if he is not available, I can always attend,” McGonagall agreed.

“Or I can come,” Sirius said cheerfully. “Now that I’m a ‘celebrated alum’ again.”

“The only ‘celebrated alum’ you were, Mr. Black,” Professor McGonagall corrected, “was the fact that you weren’t at Hogwarts any more. No matter what you say, the Fat Lady never has been the same after the Noodle Incident.”

Harry and Hermione looked at Sirius, curiosity plain on both faces as they brightened up a bit. Sirius chuckled. “I’ll tell you about it later, pup,” he said, ruffling Harry’s hair fondly.

“Fine. Are there any other new rules?” Harry asked, arching a brow.

“Not for the moment,” McGonagall stated. “But Harry, we’re just trying to be precautionary. Your godfather would never forgive me if something happened to you under my care.”

Harry and Hermione both exchanged a glance. She hadn’t been nearly so hands-on when it had just been them and Ron, telling her that someone was going after the stone. But neither of them said anything while they were dismissed.  They didn’t have anything else to do, so they walked up to the owlery under the guise of Hermione needing to write to her parents. 

Neither was terribly surprised when a large, black dog found them on their way back a half hour later. They followed it to Professor Lupin’s office and waited until Remus had cast privacy wards and Sirius shifted back to human form before saying anything.

The adults looked at them silently for a moment, as well, then held out their arms almost as one. “Come here,” Sirius said in a low voice. Harry wasted no time in flinging himself at his Godfather, while Hermione went to Uncle Moony. “Thank Merlin you’re both safe,” Sirius rasped.

“We’re fine, Uncle Sirius,” Hermione replied quietly. “We wouldn’t have known anything happened if you hadn’t come.”

“We’d rather you didn’t have to know, honestly,” Remus replied. He smoothed a hand over Hermione’s hair as she snuggled closer. “But better to be forewarned than taken by surprise.”

Harry nodded. “I’m glad you told us. But I’m also glad you’re here.” He sighed.

The quartet moved to Remus’ private rooms, piling onto the couch. No one spoke, but it was a comfortable silence as they took in the comfort of the familial presence.

“Why threaten me?” Harry wondered after a long silence. Everyone looked at him. “I mean, I’m not saying I don’t matter and I know I’m Sirius’ godson and everything, but publically, we haven’t been seen since I was eighteen months old and now I’m nearly thirteen and a half.”

Remus exchanged a glance with Sirius. “It’s because of something your father did, rather loudly,” Remus explained. “We were at a ministry function, fundraising for the war effort, and some pureblooded crone made a comment about how Sirius and I were holding you more than James or Lily were. James angrily shot back that Sirius and I had as much right to you as they did, because we were going to be helping with the parenting.”

“That is part of what godparents are for,” Hermione said with a puzzled frown. “Under the current circumstances, I can see my parents saying much the same thing.”

“But Remus has his furry little problem, and I’m a blood-traitor,” Sirius explained. “Even if people don’t know  _ that _ about Remus, he’s a half-blood and not from a wealthy family. All those poncy purebloods wouldn’t give him the time of day to begin with. Basically they were judging James for not picking the ‘correct’ godparents.”

“Do I have a godmother?” Harry asked curiously.

Remus sighed and Sirius frowned. “Your godmother is Neville’s mother, Alice Longbottom,” Remus admitted quietly. “After Voldemort disappeared… three of his Death Eaters were enraged and they went to find the other boy who had been in hiding, Neville.”

“They killed her?” Hermione breathed. 

Remus shook his head solemnly. “They tortured her and her husband, Frank, to insanity using the Cruciatus Curse. They’re in the permanent spell damage ward at St. Mungos.”

“Oh, poor Neville,” Hermione exclaimed. Neville had told them about it, but the reminder always made her feel bad for him again. 

“I can’t decide who has it better and who has it worse, honestly,” Harry said slowly. “It might or might not have been better for Neville if they had been killed…”

“It’s hard to say, with that sort of situation,” Sirius agreed.

Hermione frowned. “You can’t say things like that,” she chided them both. “Just because someone has a condition that hasn’t been successfully treated yet doesn’t mean it will never be. I have a cousin with a severe learning disability; would he be better off dead too? Just because they don’t live like you or I doesn’t mean they can’t figure out a way to contribute to society. The Wizarding world refuses to accept any treatment but magical ones to treat injuries, but what if permanent spell damage can be resolved with physical and speech therapy? The Cruiciatus causes nerve damage, doesn’t it?”

“Hermione’s right,” Remus agreed. “The Wizarding world is rather… Victorian regarding their attitudes towards disabled people and the permanently injured. Wizards and Witches simply lock them away and pretend they don’t exist. But in the muggle world, disabled people of all kinds are demanding and receiving access to the public and services.”

Harry looked shamefaced. “You’re right,” he admitted. “I shouldn’t have said that. This last year in the AA should have taught me not to judge so quickly. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not all right to think that way, Harry,” Hermione said. “But I’m glad you’re willing to learn.”

“I still don’t understand,” Sirius interjected slowly.

Hermione thought hard for a moment. “Imagine if you hadn’t gone after Peter,” she said. “Imagine… imagine if the Killing Curse had caused… damage to Harry, so maybe he’d never walk or couldn’t learn properly, and the Ministry wanted to take Harry away from you.”

“Over my dead body,” Sirius growled.

“Would you love Harry any less? Would you want him dead?” Remus added. “Our pup? Our cub, Sirius? Wouldn’t you want him to have everything you can give him?”

“Of course I would,” Sirius answered, sounding offended. “I’d… I’d die if he were killed like that.”

“Then why should it be different for anyone else?” Hermione asked. “Harry is special to us, but everyone is special to  _ someone _ .”

Sirius paused, giving that question some deliberate thought. “I suppose… I never thought about it like that,” Sirius admitted. “It’s just always… been this way.”

“Think about Mad-Eye,” Remus pointed out. “Magic could only help him so much, but he’s still alive and paranoid as ever.” Harry and Hermione exchanged a puzzled look at the unfamiliar name, but it seemed to make sense to Sirius, so they didn’t question it. For the moment.

Sirius scoffed. “Moody’s too bloody stubborn to kick it from a Death Eater curse.” Remus gave him a pointed look. “All right, all right. I’m sorry and I will try to do better.” He paused. “Do you really think Muggle medicine could help the Longbottoms?”

Hermione shrugged. “I’m not a doctor, but I’m reasonably sure that there are treatments no one has thought to try. If you can’t wave your wand or drink a potion to fix it, it seems like most Wizarding healers don’t think it can be fixed.”

“You’d be right,” Remus said. “While many wizards believe in maintaining the statute of secrecy to prevent muggles from wanting magical solutions to their issues, they never think to figure out solutions based on what muggles have done.”

“Which is incomprehensible to me!” Hermione grumbled. “Maybe I should get a Doctorate and a Medi-witch qualification and bring magical medicine into the twentieth century.”

“You want to be a healer?” Harry asked, surprised.

Hermione shrugged. “I have lots of ideas, but I haven’t really settled on anything yet. All I know is that I want to change how things are in the world.” Everyone once again settled into silence. No one would argue against the idea that if anyone could change the world, it was Hermione Jean Granger.

“So… tell us about the Noodle Incident Professor McGonagall mentioned?” Harry asked Sirius, seeking to lighten the mood before his godfather had to go home.

In the coming days, Harry was grateful that the death threat against him wasn’t made public. Instead, he concentrated on the game against Slytherin and final exams that were approaching faster than he would have liked. February sped by, then March, and soon he was a week away from the game. The pressure to win seemed insurmountable.

Hermione was a well-appreciated respite from the pressure. Every Sunday afternoon, she’d pull Harry away and insist that they sit on the Hogwarts lawn and read. Sometimes Fred and George joined them and they’d plan a prank for Fred and George to execute. The twins were more restless as the weather got nicer and the stress of exams loomed closer. It was O.W.L. year for the older boys, but they seemed more intent upon distracting their fellow students from stress rather than studying for their own exams. It baffled Hermione, but the twins were mostly immune to her pestering, so she just sighed and went along with their planning.

“We’re only going to get eight OWLs in total anyway, Hermione,” Fred said.

“ _ Eight? _ ” Hermione shrieked. “But that’s…”

“We don’t want ministry jobs,” George interrupted. “Or any jobs that require OWLs. We want to start our own joke shop.”

“We don’t want Mum getting any ideas,” Fred added. 

“Besides,” George said. “We’re bored in most of our classes anyway. Everyone else takes  _ so long _ to get a spell or transfigure something.”

“What if you arranged something with Professor McGonagall?” Hermione asked. She knew their frustration, but she usually turned her attention to helping her friends instead. “Like, you get a certain number of OWLs and she allows you to take an apprenticeship down at Gambol and Japes?”

Fred and George looked at each other longingly. “She’d never,” George responded sadly. “We’re just two troublemakers in her eyes.”

“It doesn’t hurt to ask. I bet she’s in her office. We can all go if that helps,” Harry supplied. Fred and George certainly looked tempted, so Harry doubled down. “I think she really does see how smart you two are. Hogwarts just isn’t really designed to accommodate different skill levels. They just lump us all together. I get bored a lot in Defense class when we’re going over something I think is really basic.”

“I get bored all the time,” Hermione said. “I have a near-eidetic memory. I can instantly recall what I’ve read almost all the time and if I can’t, I can at least distinguish between what I have and haven’t read.”

“That’s like us,” George said with a smile.

“If we read something, we understand it,” Fred supplied.

“And if we understand it, we remember it,” George concluded.

Hermione grinned and nodded. “That’s an eidetic memory. And you probably have a really high IQ as well. It’s really rare. I thought it was something like that. That’s why you learn so fast.”

“Our first year we got O’s in every subject,” Fred admitted softly. “Mum wouldn’t shut up about it; she started planning our lives. A life in the ministry, being Minister one day, what our families would be like. Bill, Charlie, and Percy never achieved grades that high. She wouldn’t listen to what  _ we _ wanted… so our second year we did slightly worse. The year after we did worse still… it worked. She stopped planning. We figured gaining fewer OWLs meant that she’d stop caring all together what we did as long as we graduated.”

“Let’s talk to McGonagall,” Harry confirmed. He felt a pang of pity for the twins. They were so desperate for their own lives that they weren’t doing their best. Harry knew what it was like to hold himself back for the sake of a relationship. Well, and his personal safety, but it was close enough.

“You really think she’ll take it seriously?” George asked, uncommonly hesitant.

“We do, yes,” Hermione answered for both of them.

“All right, let’s go.”

McGonagall, as anticipated, wasn’t surprised when Fred and George explained why they were so bored in classes and why they didn’t want to take many OWL courses. “You two are some of the sharpest students I’ve ever had under my care,” McGonagall said. “The only way you can squander that gift is to not try. Nothing says that if you take OWL courses you have to use them in your career. Why when I was your age, I took the Dueling OWL course. Do I use it? No. But I learned a lot and I enjoyed learning it. I can talk to Professors Snape, Flitwick, and Dumbledore. If you appear for exams we can probably arrange it so that you can take your internship rather than taking certain classes. However, this depends on everyone’s agreements that if you’re found abusing your privilege, it will be revoked.”

“We understand, Professor,” the twins chorused without even needing to exchange a glance.

“Good,” McGonagall said. She then regarded them carefully. “I never took either of you as having typical jobs after graduation. You want to run a joke shop?”

“And invent jokes and gags, Professor,” Fred confirmed, nodding. “Everyone could always do with a few more laughs.”

“We want the world to be a brighter place, for people to have more fun and be happy,” George added.

McGonagall gave them a small smile. “I see nothing wrong with those goals. And you will need quite a few advanced studies to create your own products, I would imagine. However, if I find out about you  _ using _ any of your creations in this school without one of the teachers examining them first to be certain they are safe, that will constitute abusing your privilege.”

The twins exchanged a glance, and then nodded. Hermione carefully noted that they said nothing about  _ not _ testing their products on friends and siblings, only that they couldn’t be caught. She was sure McGonagall noted it as well, but forbidding it outright would only give the twins more incentive to see it as a challenge and not as a rule they needed to keep.

Besides, she hadn’t said they couldn’t use their experiments. Only that they had to be checked by a professor for safety first. Hermione suspected their friends and siblings would still end up as test subjects, but hoped a little oversight would keep anyone from being hurt.

“Very well,” McGonagall concluded. “You two work hard for your OWLs, and I will hold up my end as well. I will speak to the professors and to the owners of Gambol and Japes, and work out the details. And Misters Weasley?” The twins looked up at their Head of House and saw her smile. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention.”

When the four students were alone in the hallway, Fred turned and pulled Hermione into a hug. George did the same with Harry, and then they switched.

“Thank you,” George said with a bright smile.

“We didn’t think that would work out,” Fred added.

“But it did,” George continued.

“And we’re grateful,” Fred concluded.

Harry and Hermione just shrugged and smiled when they were released from grateful embraces. “You’re welcome,” Harry said. “Just… enjoy it. And let us know how things are going for you, yeah?”

“Of course,” the twins chorused.

“My parents run their own business,” Hermione added. “Perhaps when you get to that point, they can give you some advice. There’s always more to it than just having good products.”

“That would be great,” George enthused.

“Muggle business can’t be that different,” Fred agreed.

Life moved forward as it always had. Harry concentrated on his studies, the AA and Quidditch, ignoring the impending trial that was currently going through evidentiary hearings. Fudge had been drawing them out suspiciously, as if he were still looking for proof that Pettigrew was innocent and Sirius was guilty. Harry and Hermione, meanwhile, had skipped the first few Hogsmeade weekends in favor of Remus’s extra defense lessons, the lack of any further threats towards Harry let everyone relax a little on that score. 

The next Hogsmeade weekend became a welcome relief to all the tension Harry was feeling. The snow was starting to melt and the first flowers had been spotted, but it was still cold and wet, so Harry and Hermione primary stayed inside, hurrying from store to store with their friends. Remus or another teacher was usually within sight or earshot, but that wasn’t unusual given that they were looking after wayward students. 

Harry accidentally ran into someone as he headed into the Three Broomsticks. “Sorry,” the stranger muttered. Before Harry could apologize, the man was gone.

Harry shrugged it off, the incident forgotten seconds later when they grabbed a table and ordered butterbeers from Madame Rosmerta. They had a wonderful afternoon, exploring the main street of the alley. That night, after dinner that night, Harry started to feel queasy while he and Hermione were in the Common Room reading recreationally before bed.

The feeling didn’t really go away by morning, but he didn’t want to give Hermione an excuse to drag him to Madame Pomfrey, so he pretended he felt fine and the headache that was forming would go away, given a little time. By the time breakfast was over and they went to Transfiguration, Harry was honestly feeling awful and wanted to go back to bed. He was distracted during class and didn’t finish the assignment in his usual time. 

Finally at the end of class, Harry went to stand up and promptly collapsed to the floor. Thankfully, no one was left except for Hermione, who was talking worriedly to McGonagall. The pair rushed over to Harry.

McGonagall was asking him questions but the dizziness he was feeling was so intense all he could do was close his eyes and try not to throw up.

“What class do you have next, Miss Granger?” Mcgonagall asked as she silently cast  _ mobilicorpus _ on Harry to get him to the Hospital Wing.

“Charms, Professor,” Hermione said softly. “Is Harry sick again?”

“Again?” McGonagall inquired.

“We both had colds in the week before school resumed after Christmas hols,” Hermione explained. “Nothing serious.”

“I see,” McGonagall said. “I’m not sure what’s wrong with Mr. Potter. I don’t suppose I can convince you to go to class? If only to make certain you and Mr. Potter have notes of some sort to study from later.”

“I suppose,” Hermione replied with a quiet sigh. Really, she was fortunate to even be asked rather than just sent along. “I can check on him at lunchtime?”

“Of course you may,” McGonagall said gently.

“Very well,” Hermione agreed. She picked up her bag and Harry’s, knowing he would thank her later for keeping his things with her. Including his map and cloak.

The next thing Harry was aware of was a cool cloth on his forehead. He shivered. “It’s working,” he heard Madame Pomfrey saying. “His fever’s back down to almost normal.”

Harry groaned. His head still hurt. “Hey pup,” Sirius said in a low voice. “Glad to see you back with us.”

“What…?” Harry croaked. 

“You collapsed after Transfiguration,” Sirius explained. “We think you might have been poisoned. Any magical cures have only worsened your symptoms, so we’re doing things the muggle way for now.”

“S’hot,” Harry slurred. 

“I know, pup. I’m sorry.” Sirius said. “We’ve managed to cool you down a whole degree in the last hour and Dumbledore and Professor Snape are researching poisons that could be causing this, but for now Moony and I are going to be taking shifts to take care of you.”

“We’re working as quickly as we can to get you back on your feet, Mr. Potter,” Madam Pomfrey confirmed. “Let me reassure you we  _ will _ figure this out. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve been inundated with complaints since the word spread that you were in here.” Madam Pomfrey looked rather annoyed about this, but Harry was grateful for the fact that his bed was surrounded by privacy curtains.  

By afternoon, Harry was sitting up, albeit propped up by pillows, listening to how Sirius had nearly convinced James to name Harry Elvendork. Hermione was doing homework, her work spread all over Harry’s bed. They’d tried getting Harry involved to Sirius’ horror, but Harry’s persistent headache made it hard for him to keep up. 

Suddenly, a knock on the privacy curtain caused them all to stop. Harry looked over at the opening and was surprised to see Dean Thomas standing there. “Dean…” Harry said in surprise. “What…?”

“I owe you an apology,” Dean said in a rush. Sirius was staring at him in complete shock. “When Ron… I mean, I’m not saying he didn’t deserve that shut out, but I didn’t want to take sides. And I probably should have explained that to you. So I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Harry said softly. “I knew that… You’d been hanging out a lot with Ron last year. I get it.”

“You look just like your father,” Sirius blurted out, causing everyone to look at him.

“I’m… sir, I’m a muggle-born…” Dean explained to Sirius haltingly. 

“What was your father’s name… was his name Benjy Fenwick, of the Gloucestershire Fenwicks?” Sirius’ tone was questioning, but Harry could tell Sirius knew the answer.

Dean paled. “What…?” he said slowly. “How did you know my father?”

“Have you told anyone? Who your father was?” Sirius asked.

“Why would I ever tell anyone about the man who abandoned my mother when she was pregnant?” Dean asked coldly.

Sirius gasped in shock, then he looked at Dean in pity. “Because he didn’t abandon you,” Sirius explained in a comforting tone. “He was murdered... by Death Eaters.”

“He was a wizard?” Dean asked loudly. Harry blinked at them, interested, but tired. 

Sirius nodded. “He was a pureblood,” Sirius confirmed. “He was… well, let’s say he was adamantly against what You-Know-Who was doing, but the Death Eaters tried to recruit him anyway. When he refused… well… he never came home, did he?”

Dean looked incredibly sad. “I always hated him. I blamed him for… well… I thought he abandoned us. It’s what Mum always said.”

McGonagall turned up a moment later. “Mr. Thomas?” she questioned. Dean was too stunned to answer. She looked at Sirius.

“I recognized him, Minnie.” Minerva McGonagall looked entirely annoyed by the name. “He confirmed it. It’s Benjy’s son.”

Harry was rather confused by McGonagall’s shock, and was happy to see Hermione was also confused. “I think I should explain the rest in the Headmaster’s office, Mr. Thomas. Great Merlin… Benjy Fenwick…”

Once they’d left, both remaining teens looked at Sirius. Sirius still looked upset. “Benjy Fenwick… he was…” Sirius cleared his throat. “He was the last heir of Gryffindor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Harry. And poor Dean! Yeah, kind of a cliffhanger, but we can't have everything happen all at once!
> 
> We apologize to any of our disabled readers who may have been offended by Harry and Sirius mid-chapter. We wanted to have the discussion about how it isn't right, the way many disabled people were and are treated, but we needed something to prompt the lesson. It is, unfortunately, an all too real sentiment that many people hold without thinking about it. Yes, it's abelist, and no, it shouldn't be allowed. But it's also a mindset that can't really be addressed until someone says something to reveal their less than PC thoughts on the matter.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's sick, and everyone's trying to figure out why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We got a lot of comments about Dean last chapter; for those of you unaware, Dean's father being a wizard IS actually canon. JK had the idea, started to hint at it, and then scrapped the storyline in favor of developing Neville more. Since Dean is less central to the canon story, it was probably the correct choice. But we decided to include it here, just for fun. :) Benjy Fenwick was a convenient name, and someone Sirius could recognize.
> 
> As always, thank you to our dear readers. Your comments mean the world to us.

The bombshell of Dean’s parentage was the talk of Gryffindor tower, not that Hermione was there much. Dean was the center of attention and suddenly everyone wanted to be his friend. Dean was overwhelmed by the attention that he drew and started hanging around Hermione and Harry in the Infirmary whenever he could, just Hermione if she happened to be between classes or in the Great Hall, and Neville when the siblings needed space.

“I get it now,” Dean shared with Harry a couple of days later. “Having this whole part of my history that I never knew, having been told my whole life he was a deadbeat… only to find out he died protecting us… and then suddenly everyone wants to be your friend because of something outside of your control… I get why you, Hermione, and Neville keep to yourselves.”

“If you ever need a safe space to vent, I’m here for you,” Harry said compassionately. 

Harry’s condition held mostly stable by treatment of the symptoms, though Madam Pomfrey remained puzzled about what was causing the problem to begin with. Hermione continued to attend classes and brought Harry her notes at mealtimes. He was still mostly unwell enough that studying was difficult, but he appreciated his sister’s determination that he wouldn’t fall behind any more than could be helped, and he enjoyed listening to her lecturing him on their various subjects.

When Friday rolled around, Hermione and Harry convinced Sirius to take a break and let Remus sit with Harry for a few hours while she dragged Sirius with her to the Library. Sirius was rather startled when she led him first to an alcove and then through a hidden door to a room he’d had no idea existed. He stopped abruptly in the doorway when he realized why she’d wanted him to come with her.

She’d brought him to an AA meeting.

“Hermione!” Luna greeted her, coming forward and giving her friend a tight hug. “How’s Harry?”

“He’s holding his own,” Hermione replied, returning the hug gratefully. “They’re still not sure what’s causing the illness, but they’re treating the symptoms and so far he’s no worse.” 

“And how are you?” Luna asked, concerned.

“I’m… I’m…” Hermione stuttered. Sirius stared at how open Hermione was with her emotions as Luna led Hermione to her usual seat. She had gone pale and shaky. “... scared,” Hermione whispered.

“Is it like last year?” Luna asked quietly, tension hanging in the air. Hermione nodded as tears started to roll down her cheeks. 

“They don’t know what’s wrong,” Hermione explained, her voice cracking. “Every day he just gets weaker. He tries to stay in good spirits though… he worries about me a lot, because I’ve been staying up late looking up rare poisons. I know there’s a whole team of people on it but I.. I just need to do something.”

“I know,” Luna said evenly, then embraced Hermione, holding her for a long time as Hermione silently cried. Melody joined the younger girls a moment later, and Sirius was a little surprised to see some of the tension he’d seen around Hermione’s eyes and in her shoulders melt away.

Hermione released Luna and looked around the rest of the group, who were looking at her with empathy and support. Then she glanced up at Sirius. “Everyone, I’d like you to meet Sirius Black, Harry’s godfather. Since his innocence has been officially declared by the MLE, I thought it would be safe to introduce him to you all.”

“I know who you all are,” Sirius said with a smile, relaxing into the accepting atmosphere of the AA. “But it’s nice to finally meet you in person.”

“Lord Black.” Several of the purebloods gave Sirius a formal nod or bow from where they sat.

Sirius scoffed. “None of that. Lord Black was my father; Sirius is fine.”

“It’s good to see you doing so well, cousin,” Draco said, feeling brave enough to drop the formality as Sirius requested. Particularly since they were related.

“Young Malfoy,” Sirius replied.

“Draco is fine, in present company,” Draco offered.

“Draco it is, then,” Sirius replied with a nod.

“We’re all on first name basis in this room,” Hermione explained. “Except the Professors, but that’s their choice. And even they sometimes use our given names, in this room.”

“Good to know,” Sirius smiled down at Hermione. “I’m really pleased to see so many of you all getting along, despite your pasts, upbringings and Houses.”

“I think I can speak for all of us when I say that we’re all pleased to have become more than our families would have ever taught us to be,” Melody said with a small smile.

“I thought perhaps you might be able to offer some advice, though,” Hermione said, pulling Sirius towards the table. Sirius sat beside her, in Harry’s usual spot, but she tried hard not to let her brother’s absence bother her.

“What sort of advice would that be?”

Blaise looked around the group, and then back to Sirius. “Several of us belong to families of Traditional views and alignments,” he said tactfully. “You broke away from your family and their wishes when you were in school; many of us would like to do the same, but lack the resources and support to do so.”

“You’re my mother’s Head of House, cousin Sirius,” Draco spoke up. “As technically the only legitimate heir to both of our Houses, at the moment, it isn’t outside of bounds for you to remove me from my father’s reach if you feel it necessary. And if I were the only one in danger, I would already be asking for your help. But… all of us would want to be safe from the likes of my father, and I won’t ask for someone to shelter me but leave my friends at risk.”

Sirius looked taken aback. “Of all the things I never thought I’d hear a Malfoy say…” he said as a slow smile spread across his face. “Well spoken… Draco.”

“Sirius, Harry and I have talked about possibly finding some of the Potter holdings and using them as safe houses for our friends whose parents would use… unsavory means… to force them to cooperate with their wishes,” Hermione said softly. “We’re pretty sure Harry and I - or at least Harry, but I won’t let him go alone - are stuck on the front line of whatever war may be coming. But we would rather our friends had the freedom to choose a side - or not - as their conscience would dictate, rather than be forced to one side or another.”

“You say that like we’re not going to back you up the moment you need us, Hermione,” Theo said in a dry tone. She blushed while the rest of the group chuckled. “But we appreciate your willingness to put yourself on the line to give us a chance.”

“I never said you wouldn’t,” Hermione shot back. “I said I wanted it to be your  _ choice _ .”

“James gave me the same thing,” Sirius said. “My parents were Death Eater sympathizers. They were pressuring me to take the mark. So when I was a bit older than some of you, I ran away from home.”

“But why didn’t your parents just come and get you once you went to Hogwarts?” Melody asked.

“There’s an old law, almost as old as the Founders, called the Restoration Doctrine. The gist of it is, if you’re near the age of majority, you have legal majority in regards to choosing your schooling. So basically if you want to stay at Hogwarts and your parents decide to they want to homeschool you your OWL year, you can say no, because the result of your OWLs determines your future.”

“So if we’re in OWL year we can stay?” Theo said, frowning. “What about after that? Many of our parents are on the board of governors.”

Sirius snorted. “The board doesn’t control the day-to-day running of the school, and the school basically stops having control when you leave for the Express. If you don’t get on the train, but were to, say, Floo elsewhere…” Sirius shrugged. . “It helped that I had the Potters behind me, and no one wanted a legal inquiry at that point in time. So I was disowned instead.”

“If you were disowned, how are you still Lord Black?” Neville asked, more curious than anything.

“Family magic and inheritances,” Sirius explained. “I carry the family magic and I’m in the direct line. The only one left in the direct line. Therefore, I am the sole heir regardless of what my mother wanted or how she blasted the family tree. Also, my mother disowned me, not my father. So I’m still the heir.”

Marcus frowned. “Your mother was a Black by marriage. I wouldn’t think matters of inheritance would be her decision to make.”

Sirius gave a tight smile. “Which is the other reason my title remains. I was named my father’s heir, and she couldn’t undo it - no matter how she wished to.”

“I’m glad you had the Potters,” Draco said slowly.

“It’s good to remember that there are people out there who care,” Sirius agreed.

“Is Harry really okay?” Draco asked, deeply concerned. 

“We’re zeroing in on the poison,” Sirius said as Hermione paled again. Luna squeezed her hand. “He’s not contagious, so it’s possible we can arrange a time for you guys to come visit without anyone finding out. He just gets tired a lot mostly.”

“I think all of us would like that,” Adella said. “Hermione gets to visit him two or three times a day, but we haven’t seen him all week and the first couple days were… scary.”

“He has really appreciated everyone using their coins to check on him, though,” Hermione said softly. “But if there were a moment to regret the secrecy involved in our group… well, something like this would be it, wouldn’t it?”

“It will be a lovely day when we can all walk down Diagon Alley together without fear of reprisals,” Luna agreed. “But for now, keeping our true allegiances quiet helps our friends more than it hurts the rest of us.”

Draco gave Luna a gentle smile. “It will be a wonderful day indeed when we need not keep our friendships quiet. But that just means we have work to do to make it happen.”

“And all the more reason to get as many of you as possible out of reach of your families,” Sirius agreed gruffly. “We’ll make sure to open up a couple of the Potter properties. They’re warded down pretty tightly. At the moment, though, we need either Hermione or Harry to get us access. Which likely means summer hols.”

After the AA meeting, Sirius returned to the Hospital Wing, ignoring the gazes he got from students. Harry woke up when he heard Sirius return. His godson gave him a smile. “How was the meeting?” he asked. Harry’s voice was scratchy and horse. He’d developed pneumonia, and they were having a harder time keeping his fever down. Sirius could tell that Harry’s body was tired. It was an awful poison, to have to watch someone you loved go through this.

“It was fine,” Sirius said. “Everyone misses you.”

“How’s Snape?”

“It’s narrowed down to one particular type of rare poisons,” Sirius said. Harry asked this question every time he woke up. “He says this will be his first stop once he finds it.”

“Any other news?” 

“Not really, though Hermione is going to warn you you’re now two weeks behind on homework.”

“Uncle Moony helped me with a bit of it this afternoon,” Harry said. “I’m just doing a little at a time every time I’m up, though he won’t let me practice any magic.”

“I suspect fine control is a bit beyond you right now, my boy,” Sirius said gently. “No point in hurting yourself trying, not when you’re already having a rough go of it.” Harry hummed. “Tonks wants to come by again and see if you remember anything unusual.”

“Nothing unusual,” Harry said sleepily, shutting his eyes. “Even in Hogsmeade. Maybe they’re getting used to ‘just Harry’ more than The-Boy-Who-Lived…  guy even bumped into me without recognizing me.”

Sirius suddenly took Harry by the shoulders. “What? Harry… Harry I need you to try and stay awake for me. We need to extract that memory.” Dumbledore had brought by a small bowl that memories could be inserted into. They had extracted several so far, but Harry had not brought up the man who’d bumped into him. Harry coughed, then screwed up his face and Sirius helped him extract the memory. Harry was half-asleep by the end of it, so Sirius placed the bowl on the side-table and concentrated on settling Harry. Tucked the blankets back around him and wiped his sweaty forehead with a cool flannel.

Harry turned his head towards Sirius and gave a little sigh. He was staying awake for shorter and shorter periods between needing a rest. St. Mungo’s was starting to argue that they needed to take him, but Harry had refused and Sirius wasn’t about to go against Harry’s wishes. St. Mungo’s wouldn’t be able to do much for him anyway. Until Snape and the team of healers combing through every poison developed in the last 1,000 years to find exactly what Harry’d been hit with, they couldn’t treat him. And St. Mungo’s was in public, which added too many variables for them to completely prevent further attacks.

Simply put, Harry was  _ safer _ at Hogwarts. And if this was where he preferred to be, particularly with Snape leading the research into the poison and its possible counter, this was where Harry would stay. In addition, Hermione would be fretting herself into an even worse state if they kept her from Harry by transferring him away from the school.

Sirius often thought over the relationship between Hermione and Harry, wondering if they would be as close if they’d been born siblings. Would they be as protective of each other? Or would they have drifted into their own lives, as he and Regulus had as children? He supposed they would never know, but that didn’t stop him from wondering about it.

They all worried about Harry, but Hermione was nearly as bad as her brother about running herself into the ground when she was worried about someone else. Fortunately, Hermione had her friends in the AA and among the older year Gryffindors looking after her, trying to keep her distracted from her worries and helping her keep up with classwork so she could help Harry in turn when he was better. 

They all refused to consider any alternative to finding a cure and Harry being returned to health.

Jean, meanwhile, was beside herself with worry and had been cooking and baking when she wasn’t working to keep herself occupied. Even George had taken up knitting to keep his hands busy. Secretly, Sirius and Remus had joined him. They were going to be overprotective of Harry for a while after they got through this. 

“Found it!” exclaimed Snape, his voice a sharp contrast to the quiet of the Hospital Wing. “ _ Magicae mortem _ .”

“The Magic death?” Sirius asked, going over to Snape. “What is it?”

“An ancient form of torture. The sufferer is subjected to death as a Muggle would die. Magic is useless against the symptoms. It’s actually quite fascinating…”

“Is there an antidote?” Sirius demanded tightly. 

“Yes,” Snape said slowly. “But it takes two weeks to brew.”

“Harry can’t wait that long!” Sirius exclaimed. “He’s already sleeping most of the time.”

“He’s going to have to,” Snape shot back. Snape took a breath and looked at Sirius sympathetically. “Black, Potter is strong. He should make it.” Snape paused, glanced around, then, seeing no one, said, “Sirius, Harry needs you to keep it together. He’s going to pull through this and I’ll brew the antidote myself. In a week he’s going home for Easter and he’ll have lots of people around to take care of him, but he needs you right now.” Sirius took a breath and nodded. “I’m going to go let the team at St. Mungo’s know we’ve identified the poison. You go back to Potter.”

Sirius went back and sat down to sit vigil. Harry had been having nightmares, mostly about the Dursleys. He’d whimper in his sleep or cover his mouth to silently sob. Sirius had never felt so helpless, not even his first night in Azkaban, when his best friends were dead and his other friends thought he was a traitor and no one would believe him when he said that he’d let Peter be the Potters’ Secret Keeper.

Soft footfalls alerted him to another person coming into Harry’s area. Sirius looked over and snarled. “No one wants you here, Albus,” he snapped.

“And yet here I am,” Dumbledore said, regarding Sirius carefully. “I do not understand what I’ve done to deserve such wrath.”

“You don’t? Really?” Sirius couldn’t help but laugh, as sharp and biting as the day that Peter had escaped. “You knew me, Albus. You knew I wasn’t the type to join Voldemort, but you didn’t even visit me. You left me to rot in Azkaban because it was  _ easy _ . And the only reason my name was cleared was because Harry and Hermione question everything. Even worse, you put Harry with the Dursleys, which Lily specifically told you not to do. It was in her will, for Merlin’s sake!”

“As I have said,” Dumbledore repeated. “I am deeply so-”

“To hell with your apologies, Albus,” Sirius hissed so as to not wake Harry. “ _ Sorry _ doesn’t give me back twelve years of my life!  _ Sorry _ doesn’t change the fact that you forced a small child to live with people who  _ hate him _ !” Even Dumbledore’s placid expression turned troubled for just a moment at Sirius’s vitriol.

“I did the best thing I could do for him at the time,” Dumbledore said after a moment, recovering his calm. “He’s here and he’s strong. Isn’t that what matters?”

“He’s here, and he’s  _ dying _ , Albus! How is that supposed to be better?” Sirius snarled, low-voiced. “And you didn’t do the best thing for him at the time, because  _ I didn’t betray them! _ I would have raised him as my own son, kept him safe and taught him to be strong.  _ That _ would have been  _ better _ .”

“He should be allowed his family,” Dumbledore argued. “Family will sacrifice for each other when it matters.”

Sirius opened his mouth and closed it, turning instead to take off the spelled cold cloth from Harry’s brow as he began to get a chill. “Someday, Albus, and someday soon, you will eat your words. And I promise I will tell you I told you so. Why didn’t you come and question me under veritaserum?”

Dumbledore released a great sigh. “It didn’t seem necessary at the time. The Potters were dead. You were their Secret Keeper. It appeared straightforward.”

“So Malfoy and my insane cousin rated a trial and I didn’t?” Sirius’s voice had gone cold and he refused to look away from Harry. “They let Malfoy claim the Imperius, but it wasn’t possible the same could have happened to me? So much for seeking the truth.”

Dumbledore frowned at Sirius’s back, but couldn’t argue that particular point. “I understand that Severus has begun brewing the antidote for Mr. Potter,” he said at last, changing the subject.

“Yes. But if he dies in the next two weeks while we wait, I will never forgive Snape. Or you,” Sirius said, his voice deathly serious. For once, pun not intended. In truth, he would probably someday forgive Snape. Regardless of how they felt about each other, both of them cared about Harry, and Sirius could tell that Snape had been sleeping as little as possible trying to identify the poison. Dumbledore, however… Dumbledore was the real reason why he, Harry, and Remus had lost everything. Peter may have betrayed them but Albus hadn’t questioned it. 

Harry whimpered and Sirius automatically grabbed his hand. Dumbledore seemed to want to say something. “I don’t know why you’re still here, Dumbledore,” Sirius said angrily. Dumbledore left. About a minute later, Harry shot up suddenly, gasping and clinging to Sirius who had automatically embraced him. “You okay, pup?” he asked tenderly.

“Gimmeamin’t,” Harry slurred. He eventually sagged against Sirius, who helped Harry lay back down. “You know, when Dement’rs come near me, I ‘ear their last moments?” he asked drunkenly. Sirius said nothing, but idly felt his godson’s brow. “Dreamt the whole thing… don’ know if i’s really…”

Sirius distracted himself by rewarming Harry’s tea, then raising Harry to a sitting position with a tap of his wand to the bed. “Drink your tea,” he said, pressing the mug into Harry’s hands.

“Dad tried t’ hold ‘im off…” Harry said sadly. Sirius froze, unable to prevent the image of James standing proud and tall against Voldemort. Stubbornly defending his wife and son. “Told Mum to take me n’ run… Mum… Mum was gonna take me out th’ window of my room. There was a big tree there… Could she climb trees? Then Mum… she threw herself in front of me… refused to let ‘im see me… told ‘im… told ‘im to kill her instead… why would she do that?… Mia needs her.”

Sirius felt sick to his stomach. Whatever Harry had remembered about James’ and Lily’s deaths, he’d transferred onto George and Jean. He no longer blamed Harry for being adopted. All he could do was thank George and Jean. They’d stepped in, two total strangers who’d never met Harry, and taken Harry away from his awful, abusive relatives.

“It’s not going to happen, Harry,” Sirius said, hoping Harry couldn’t tell how choked up he was. “On my magic, I swear I won’t let him take them from you.”

“Pr’mis?” Harry slurred again, eyes drifting shut.

“Yeah. I promise,” Sirius managed to respond. Harry’s lips twitched into a slight smile before his eyes fluttered closed again.

“How is he?” Hermione asked in a low voice as Sirius lowered Harry’s bed back down.

“His fever’s becoming harder to control. Nightmares. But… Snape’s working on the antidote now,” Sirius answered lowly.

“He’ll make it,” Hermione said, putting more confidence into her voice than she really felt. “Just another week and we’ll be home for Easter.”

Sirius nodded. “Remus and I are taking him home via Floo,” he told her. “Harry… can’t take the train.”

She gave him a brief smile of understanding. “Sounds good. How… how are you?”

Sirius was quiet for a long moment. “He remembers the last things James and Lily ever said around him,” he said quietly. “I wish… I wish more than anything I could take that away from him.”

“He wouldn’t want you to,” Hermione said after a moment. “It’s all he has that he’s remembered for himself. Even if it’s terrifying and horrible, it’s still better than not remembering them at all.”

“I suppose,” Sirius sighed. He flicked his wand at the curtains, muffling the sounds of the hospital wing and ensuring no one could hear them. “He’s mixing up people and situations in his dreams, luv,” he explained gently. “James and Lily’s deaths, but your parents.”

Hermione blinked, startled, then tilted her head sideways. “That happens in dreams, sometimes. I’ve had dreams of people I know in the roles of characters from a story before. I suppose he’s worried about what happens to me if something happens to my parents, though.”

“You know him so well.” That made Sirius smile for just a moment. “You seem less concerned about that.”

Hermione shrugged. “We have you and Uncle Moony, each other, and my extended family. I’d hate to see anything happen to my parents, of course, but I’ve never been worried about being alone and unloved if something like that happened. That isn’t one of my fears.”

“When I heard what Dumbledore did, I was so furious,” Sirius recalled. “He doesn’t seem to understand that Harry spent ten years without being even a little loved. I swear, the second this all comes out I’m going to tear Dumbledore a new one.”

“You,” Hermione chuckled. “You have no idea what Mum and Dad have planned. They’ve memorized whole monologues of what they want to say. Even if they didn’t meet Harry until the school year was over, we have a few pictures of those early days. Harry looked… well, like he hadn’t had a proper meal in years, basically. The doctors… muggle healers… think he’ll always be a couple inches shorter than he should have been. Puberty, apparently, can make up for a lot. Especially since he’s much healthier now. But it won’t fix everything.”

“I have a feeling your mum can be a terrifying woman, magic or no,” Sirius said with an honest smile this time. “I’d like to see what she says to Dumbledore. I can always take my turn after.”

“I’m planning on selling tickets,” Hermione quipped with a wink.

“Perhaps Moony and I will hear Lily’s voice through Jean,” Sirius commented thoughtfully. “Lily was always so protective, and she had such fire. I think she and your mum would’ve been wonderful friends.”

“Do you think she’d have liked me? I mean… if they’d lived to send Harry to school, and he and I had still become friends…”

“I think they’d have loved you, Kitten,” Sirius assured her gently. “I’m sure they do now, watching over us from the other side of the Veil. They would be so proud to see Harry thriving with a good family, and you gave that to him.”

“That’s what Harry always says,” Hermione admitted, rubbing her eyes and trying to smile. “That I gave him a family again. But I just took him home with me. He’s the one who made it really matter. If he hadn’t wanted it, whatever steps my parents had taken wouldn’t have done more than change his residence.”

“Harry’s always really liked everyone, just about,” Sirius said, frowning at a memory. “In fact, the only person he didn’t like straight away was Peter. And Neville had the same reaction to meeting Peter. That probably should have been our first hint.”

“Our therapist says that young children are usually very sensitive. If they don’t like someone, it’s usually because something about that person feels off. But, of course, they can’t articulate it,” Hermione pondered aloud. “It doesn’t actually surprise me that neither Harry nor Neville liked him. We didn’t like him any better when we… ‘met’ him earlier this year, either.”

“Can we talk about something else? How were classes today?” They were announcing the start of the trial any day now and Sirius wasn’t looking forward to testifying about the worst days of his life.

“Classes were good,” Hermione answered, accepting the change of subject. “We’re a little ahead of the class in DADA, thanks to Remus’s summer tutoring, but that’s okay. I usually help Neville and some of the others once I’ve got the hang of practice. I found some new books in the library today, too. They look like they could be helpful for our little side project.”

“I’m sure Harry would love it if you read to him once he’s awake,” Sirius said as Hermione started pulling out her homework to do it while Harry napped, as she had for the last two weeks. Sirius pulled out his knitting, a chunky knit red and gold blanket for Harry. Madame Pomfrey was familiar with the scene. Remus joined them an hour later, just as the house elves were setting out dinner and Harry was waking up.

“Hey Uncle Moony,” Harry greeted. He was sitting up and looking better than he had in days. He actually smiled as he watched Hermione reading History of Magic to him. 

“Hermione trying to get you more sleep?” Remus asked.

“Trying to catch me up on homework,” Harry corrected.

“We’ve pulled together several texts to supplement the current timeframe we’re covering in History of Magic,” Hermione explained, pausing in her reading. “Despite the less than engaging mode Professor Binns utilizes to teach, this sort of history is something that would never have been covered by our muggle primary schools. We want to know as much as we can about Wizarding history.”

“Is your mum ordering more books from the store in Italy?” Harry asked, and Hermione nodded. “Good. There’s more to history than just Wizarding England.”

Remus grinned and Sirius gaped at the two in front of them. Hermione grinned cheekily back at Remus, and Harry coughed as he tried to smother a laugh at Sirius’s expression. “Just because it won’t be on Binns’ test doesn’t mean our OWLs won’t expect us to know more history than the last three Goblin Rebellions and the formation of the Wizengamot and the ICW,” Hermione said in her swottiest tone.

“Though really I need to make sure I can pass final exams,” Harry remarked. “No magic for two more weeks and I’ve missed all these classes…”

“You’ll figure it out,” Sirius said. “You’re at the top of your class.”

“Though I can’t tutor you in Defense,” Remus added. “I can help with all your other subjects. Sirius can help, and can cover Defense too. Any time you’re awake and feeling up to it, you can be studying or learning or writing your essays with a quill spelled for dictation we got you.”

“We’ve read most of this already, Harry,” Hermione added. “We were well ahead of class, remember? You will pass exams; I believe in you.”

Harry gave his sister a tired smile. “I know you do. It’s just… overwhelming.”

Hermione smiled back, then returned to reading to Harry. The adults tuned out the dry history book, but Harry focused on her voice until the fever started to creep in again and he fell asleep. Hermione marked their place in the book and set it aside. She tried to focus on her essay instead, but found herself watching Harry instead of writing.

Her brother was very pale. Sometimes the fever receded and he was lucid, if easily tired. Other times he had terrible nightmares, and when woken would only blink at someone with fever-glazed eyes as they tried to convince him of what was real and what wasn’t. 

More than once they had to convince him that they weren’t at the Dursleys, and that he was with family. Once Harry started asking after someone who didn’t exist. Someone named Danger. He kept scratching at his chest in confusion, as if expecting something to be there. It took a while to cool him off and settle him, and Sirius about fell apart once Harry was asleep again.

Hermione knew she had to stay positive. If she lost hope, Harry would too, and the only thing keeping him going against the poison was that he fought it with the belief that he could survive this. Well, that and not wanting to let anyone down by dying or somesuch stupid thing. Still, if his near-obsession with protecting others caused him to look after himself better, she would take it until they could teach him to value his own well-being.

The nights he dreamed he was still with the Dursleys were the worst. Harry would tense in his sleep and wouldn’t make a sound, but wouldn’t talk for hours after he woke up again no matter what Hermione, Remus, and Sirius said. Desperate to help her brother, she convinced Snape to floo over while the potion was at a stage that it could be left alone to talk to Harry.

Sirius gave a very small nod to Snape as he entered and sat down. “I’ll be right outside, pup,” Sirius said quietly.

“Miss Granger states that you have been having nightmares after which you don’t speak to anyone.”

“I really don’t want to discuss it,” Harry croaked. “It is what it is.”

“You know, keeping it to yourself will not help your occlumency,” Snape commented idly. Harry blushed and looked away. “On occasion, I dream that Lily returns from the dead and blames me for my part in her death. For my part in the war,” Snape continued.

“She wouldn’t. I certainly don’t. I… I get it,” Harry dismissed. It had been something that they’d discussed multiple times over the last few months. Harry had been stunned at first and then he just… forgave him. Snape still didn’t understand how anyone could just forgive like that.

It struck him as particularly odd that forgiveness was offered without strings attached by Lily’s son, when Lily hadn’t been able to forgive him at all for what he’d called her that day, so long ago. His one serious lapse had been all it took to lose her regard and her friendship, forever. That her son could forgive both the lesser and the greater transgression was simply astounding. 

“It’s not really the nightmares… It’s just that sometimes I wake up from a dream or something and I don’t know where I am,” Harry finally offered. “The winter before I got my Hogwarts letter, I caught a particularly bad flu. It was bad enough I probably should have been in hospital, but they refused to take me to A&E. They just locked me in my cupboard.”

“And with your odious relatives, the less attention you drew to yourself upon waking, the better,” Snape agreed, his tone one of understanding. “It is easy to return to that sort of behavior, especially given the similarities between how you feel now and how you felt then.”

Harry nodded tentatively. “I don’t want to worry anyone,” he whispered. “But sometimes… well, even when I have sorted out where I am and what’s going on, I just… I don’t want to talk about it. Or at all, sometimes.”

“I doubt Miss Granger is the type to make you discuss something you’ve no wish to discuss,” Snape commented.

Harry made a face. “Only if she thinks it’s necessary.”

“So tell her you just need some time to be quiet? Hand her a book and let her distract you by reading from it for a time?”

“She does that anyway,” Harry admitted. “I suppose I could try. Maybe.”

Snape lowered his voice. “Your sister loves you, and she would do anything she can to help in whatever way you need. Would you like me to speak with her about this?”

“I don’t want to hurt her feelings. She tries so hard to make up for the fact that the first eleven years of my life were… unpleasant. It’s only been two years and I’m so grateful for her but… no matter how much help I get, there are some battles I have to fight on my own, and I don’t know if Hermione’s old enough to accept that.

“Sometimes she… she wants to understand things that she can’t possibly know. Like losing everyone who ever loved you and being placed in the very last place your parents wanted you to be put in. I’m not complaining. It all worked out in the end. But that’s not something that can be… learned. There’s a split second every morning when I think that I’m still at the Dursleys and all of this… all of this was a dream. When I have a fever I guess it’s just… worse.”

Snape raised an eyebrow. “I suspect she is aware of the fact that there are things she cannot understand, as otherwise she would likely be here and I would be monitoring your potion and not the other way around,” he said smoothly. “Whether she has accepted her inability to understand is something else entirely, and something I cannot speak to. But the very existence of the AA suggests that she’s perfectly aware that there are some issues on which she will never be able to truly relate to any of you as well as you relate to the others. As long as you can help each other, she seems content enough.”

“She gets frustrated by it sometimes,” Harry admitted.

“Of course she does,” Snape answered with a shrug. “You get frustrated when you don’t know why your potion doesn’t come out perfectly. Mr. Longbottom gets frustrated when his cauldron explodes and he doesn’t know what he did wrong. And in this situation, Miss Granger cannot affect her lack of knowledge short of letting someone like Mr. Weasley treat her horribly until she has some modicum of understanding, and even that will never give her the full experience of what you have been through. You’re both young, Mr. Potter, and tempers will flare from time to time. It is one of those things that everyone goes through.”

Harry suddenly went pale.  “I need to…” he said, his voice going funny. He then bent to the side of the bed where a bucket had been strategically placed and emptied his stomach. Snape got Sirius immediately and once Harry’d finished, Sirius took his temperature. Sirius frowned. “It’s half a degree higher… I’ll get a compress.”

“I’ll return to my lab and check on the potion,” Snape said. “Doubtless Miss Granger will return here shortly, though I will endeavor to convince her to join the other students for lunch if I can.”

“It would probably be good for her if she did,” Sirius agreed. Still, he couldn’t fault Hermione’s behavior - he was just as bad, if not worse sometimes.

When Snape returned to his potions lab, he found Hermione sitting with a book where she could see the alarm spell and the timer he’d set over the potion. She looked up when he entered the lab. “Were you able to help him, Professor?” she asked. He found it interesting that she didn’t ask if Harry had spoken to him, only if he’d been able to help.

“To some extent, yes,” he confirmed. “I believe this is one case where you should simply leave Mr. Potter to sort things for himself. Perhaps be willing to provide a distraction for him should he need it, but there are some experiences that he must settle for himself in his own mind.”

Hermione sighed and nodded. “Yes, sir. Thank you, Professor.”

“And if I may, I would suggest that perhaps you should take some time for yourself this afternoon, Miss Granger,” he added. She blinked and looked up at him. “Take lunch with your friends in the Great Hall. Perhaps take a brief walk outside the castle to get some air. Mr. Potter is not going anywhere.”

“I… will consider it, sir,” Hermione said finally. She didn’t feel as if she had been neglecting herself, but perhaps he was right. 

“Good,” Snape said, nodding in dismissal. Hermione gathered her books and notes and departed the lab a few moments later. She looked up the stairs towards the Infirmary, then sighed and turned towards the Great Hall instead.

Perhaps lunch with her friends would be good for her, indeed.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The East holiday arrives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting today. Winterlight had family issues that needed dealing with and wasn't online until much later than usual. 
> 
> As always, many thanks for comments and feedback. Our readers rock!

Everyone was relieved for the Easter hols, for various reasons. After most of the school boarded the trains for two weeks at home, Sirius, Harry, and Hermione took the floo to the Black home, then on to the Grangers. Harry slept through the whole trip. His eyes cracked open, however, when he smelled the familiar scents of one of Hermione’s favorite meals, and he realized he’d been set on the couch. “Mum?” he croaked. “Dad?” 

“Hey kid,” George Granger said. “I need you to sit up and take a few things.”

Harry automatically took the three pills George held out and gulped them down with the warm bone broth George also offered. 

Sirius looked rather curious. “Muggles have pretty interesting ways of using potion ingredients,” he commented. 

“Zinc, Garlic, and Elderberry are all herbs proven to help treat the flu, and the bone broth will help Harry stay hydrated,” George explained. “Before bed, we’ll make sure he gets some medication to help keep the fever down overnight. It should help some with the body aches too.”

While George explained the supplements to Sirius, Jean came in with a second mug of warm tea for Harry. She knelt on the floor beside the couch and checked his temperature with her cheek against his forehead as she hugged him gently. “Welcome home, sweetheart. I have some tea for you, and you get to decide if you would like soup for dinner or more broth and some custard.”

“Custard please,” Harry managed to reply, albeit groggily. “You cooked for me?”

“Of course,” Jean said with a small smile. “I’m your Mum. It’s what I do. And it was made with extra love, so you’ll get better faster.”

Harry cracked a smile at that, even as he handed over his now empty broth mug. “Thanks, Mum,” he whispered.

“Rest, love,” she answered softly, smoothing his hair away from his face. “Your glasses are on the coffee table if you want them later.”

Harry was already half asleep. “Love you,” he murmured, his words lightly slurred.

It was the first truly restful sleep Harry’d had since he’d been poisoned. When he woke up again, he was actually hungry and felt well enough to sit at the dinner table with everyone else. Seeing Harry at the table seemed to lift a weight off of Hermione. Harry had been worried about her. She’d been looking stressed and tired, and Fred and George had said she’d been snapping at people in the tower and she seemed tired as well. 

Sirius and Remus insisted on watching telly after dinner, even though Harry was trying to catch up on homework. “There’s plenty of time for that once you’re cured and recovered,” Sirius said, a strange tightness to his voice.

“But, I don’t want to come back from break with all this work to do,” Harry whined.

“Adjustments will be made,” Remus said. “Dumbledore has already talked to the staff.”

“I don’t want special treatment,” Harry muttered.

“This isn’t about you being The-Boy-Who-Lived,” Sirius said tightly.

Harry froze. “What’s going on?” he asked. “Why are you acting all weird about this?”

Remus looked sad. “Harry, did you ever wonder why  _ magicae mortem _ was created?” the man asked. Harry shook his head and Hermione sat up straighter in her seat, curious. “Long ago, the poison was created as a death sentence to convicts who’d done heinous things. Later dementors were discovered, and the kiss became the more… palatable option.”

“It’s not something that’s taken lightly,” Sirius said. “To die like a muggle… some wizards would see no worse fate. It’s… an inhumane thing to do to a person, much less a child. To cut them off from a part of themselves.”

Harry blinked. But, as usual, his first concern wasn’t for himself. “Is that why Hermione has been so worn out? Is our combined family magic weighing on her more as I’m being cut off?”

Hermione tilted her head at Harry’s question; it hadn’t even occurred to her that his condition would be affecting her magic, however indirectly.

“I… don’t know,” Remus said eventually.

“There’s no record of it having done so in the past,” Sirius said after giving it some real thought. “But I haven’t found any records of one of the old pureblood families being down to two members where one has been afflicted either.”

“It may also simply come down to the fact that Hermione has not been sleeping much,” Jean said, honestly hoping for a more ordinary cause rather than a magical one. “She does that when she’s stressed, and she’s been going between you, school, and keeping us informed on your status for the last few weeks. That’s why we’re going to be grounding Hermione for the week.”

Hermione opened her mouth in protest, but George gave her a stern look. “You haven’t been taking care of yourself young lady,” he scolded. “And since you can’t manage to do that, you’re not allowed to help take care of Harry. You can sit with him, but that is all. This household has four adults who are all capable of taking care of Harry. We don’t need both of you ill again, okay?”

Hermione’s vision blurred due to tears, but she lifted her chin and refused to let them fall. “Yes, Dad,” she managed, knowing her parents wouldn’t be swayed from this particular decision. She didn’t like it, but at the moment that didn’t really matter. They were protecting her and they wouldn’t be dissuaded.

“Just be glad he’s not contagious, my dear,” Jean reminded her daughter. “If he were, you wouldn’t be allowed in the same room as your brother.”

Remus shook his head slightly. “If he were contagious, Madam Pomfrey would have insisted he stay in the hospital wing and not be allowed home for the holiday. She’d also have banned everyone from visiting and only allowed caretakers to help her with him.”

“I’m glad I get to come home,” Harry admitted softly.

“We are too, son,” George said, reaching over to ruffle his hair. “Though we have been keeping up with your condition as best we can, we feel much better being able to see you for ourselves. Which is why we’re also not going to keep Hermione away,” he continued before his daughter could try to argue with her grounding. “We’re just going to insist that she let the adults be adults and take care of you both. So, you may spend time together. Play games if Harry’s up to it, or read or watch movies if he’s not. But Harry’s care is to be left in our hands.”

“Sounds like a good compromise to me,” Sirius said with a grin, though there was still worry in his eyes. “In any case, homework for Harry should be left for when he has the strength for it. And even when you’re on the mend, some assignments will have their due dates postponed simply because it will take time for your magical connection to heal once the antidote is administered.”

“Do… do they know who did this?” Jean asked hesitantly. 

“Dumbledore is tracking down a couple leads, but we have a decent idea of who. Eventually this is going to come out, if only because of the charges once we catch them. Attempted murder of a minor is the kind of thing that captures attention.”

“Good,” Hermione said firmly. “It’s about time certain elements of wizarding society stopped being able to get away with threats, coercion and murder simply because of who they are and who they know.”

“I’m sick of being in bed,” Harry said suddenly. “I’m sick of always being a target. I just… don’t want to be special.”

“Well you’re not at all special to us, Harry,” George said with a grin. “You’re just my son. Nothing else.”

“Just an average kid. Except you have the baking skills to go on Masterchef 1 , or perhaps to cook with Julia Child if she decides to start another show,” Jean said, smiling fondly. “You know, some of the families at the park still tease that your biscuits are better than mine, since you decided to share last summer.”

Harry blushed. “They’re not. You’re quite good at baking yourself, Mum.”

“Oh, they just like to tease your Mum,” George chuckled. “Doubtless someday your friends will tease Hermione that her brother’s a better cook than she is.”

Hermione huffed indignantly at the teasing, hiding a smile. “You’ll both just have to give me lessons at some point instead of just letting me help, I suppose,” she answered airily. “Following a cooking recipe oughtn’t be any harder than making potions.”

“That’s mostly true,” Remus agreed, doing his best not to laugh at her mock-offended expression.

Harry was smiling at their antics, recognizing their trying to keep him in good spirits. Suddenly, he got a chill, but before he could so much as start to really shiver, George switched his blanket for the electric one they’d bought in preparation for Harry coming home. Hermione gave Harry a worried look before turning on the telly and switching to Masterpiece Theatre.

Harry closed his eyes and sighed as the warmth sunk into his aching bones better than anything else had in the last few weeks. Without meaning to, Harry fell asleep. The next thing he heard was low arguing from the kitchen. Mum and Dad were arguing about something being too much. He couldn’t quite make it out, but it sounded like they thought he was too much for them. Harry couldn’t get off the couch, no matter how hard he tried. Then the doorbell rang and Mum went to get it. 

Harry was horrified to see the Dursleys being brought into the front room. The Dursleys looked rather off-put and understanding, saying that Harry was quite mad and criminal and needed proper treatment. Then Harry tried to object and Vernon went to hit him and -

BAM! Harry hit the floor full force. The house was dark and quiet, though there was a light on in the kitchen so it wasn’t completely black. Harry realized that they’d left him on the couch with all the things he could possibly need, including the little bell they’d gotten him for when Jean and George were both at the office and Sirius and Remus were in the magical part of the house. For a moment, Harry thought that he hadn’t woken anyone up, but then he heard footsteps. 

Quietly, Harry managed to pick himself up and got himself back on the couch before the footsteps hit the stairs. Harry pretended to sleep. “I know you’re awake, Harry,” Jean’s voice said. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Harry said softly, sitting up. It was no use pretending with Jean. Sirius or Remus he could sometimes fool, but Jean always knew. “Not far to the floor.”

Jean gave him a hint of a smile as she crossed the living room and helped untangle the blankets so he was properly covered again. “I hear you’ve been having nightmares.”

“Sometimes,” Harry responded with a shrug. “Sometimes they’re just odd dreams.”

“You’re a curious boy with an active imagination,” Jean agreed, handing Harry a mug of broth that Remus had charmed to stay warm overnight in case Harry wanted it. “Sometimes strange dreams are the result. Which was this?”

Harry hid behind the mug for several seconds, trying to decide how to answer. “I dreamt my aunt and uncle came here to take me away, saying I was a criminal and quite mad,” he finally explained. “I think it was awful more because danger invaded our safety, rather than anything else though.”

Jean nodded and captured one of Harry’s hands between her own. “I promise you, love, that even if they do manage to track you down here,  _ no one _ is taking you away from me without a fight. I will not let that happen. You’re  _ my _ son now, and no one is going to change that.”

“I know,” Harry said quietly. “I just… there’s this mirror, in the wizarding world, called the Mirror of Erised.” Jean blinked at the apparent non sequitur, but allowed Harry to continue. “It shows you the one thing you desire most in the world. Your deepest desire. Do you know what I see when I look in it?” 

Jean’s lips quirked upwards. “I could hazard a guess,” she replied.

“I see a family,” Harry explained. “A place I belong. People who love me. And now that I have it… I guess I’m scared of losing it, especially with Voldemort coming after me. I’d rather die than lose all of you.”

“I understand that,” Jean said seriously. “Perhaps not in quite the same way, though I’ll admit that I was a wreck when my parents passed away and I was an adult then. But George and I would rather die than let anything happen to you or Hermione. That’s part of what being a loving parent is; doing whatever it takes to protect our children. Finding out we almost lost you last year… to know I couldn’t be there for you when you needed me...”

Harry’s shoulders slumped. “I… I’m not sure I could take losing a second family,” Harry whispered.

“Oh, honey,” Jean hugged Harry tightly. “Nearly everyone fears losing the people or the things they love. That’s  _ human _ . Wizard, Muggle, everyone. People fear death, because it means loss for themselves and others. And because no one can say for certain what’s on the other side. And I know I can’t promise you will never lose us. Everyone dies, love. It’s the way of life. But I can promise, with absolute certainty, that you will never be left alone again.”

“How? I mean… anything could happen. Accidents…” Harry clung to Jean, hiding his face against her shoulder. She rocked him gently, soothingly, and he could have sworn he’d never felt anything so wonderful. Even when Hermione did the same thing for him, it wasn’t quite like this.

“Because we have made legal arrangements,” Jean explained. “It’s highly unlikely you will lose George and I at the same time as Remus and Sirius, but we have arranged for Sirius to have a legal Muggle identity, and he’s listed as your Godfather in the Muggle world now too. He and Remus will take care of you and Hermione if something happens to George and I. Should they also be hurt or killed, my brother Paul and his wife get custody of you both. With my will is a letter that explains Wizards and that my children are very special. After Paul is my sister and her husband, with their own copy of the letter. My sister lives in Belgium most of the year, so unless all of Europe goes to war and multiple countries are wiped out, there will always be someone there for you.”

“They’re all your family?” Harry asked after several minutes to let all the details sink in.

“George’s parents are still alive, but they retired to the south of France,” Jean said. “They travel a lot, too, though they’re talking about wanting to visit with us over the summer. We wanted to wait to discuss it with you before we made any plans, but that can wait until you’re better. We thought you would both be happier with your aunts and uncles rather than grandparents, though of course your grandparents are further down the line of custody.” 

“I just… don’t want anyone to die because of me,” Harry admitted.

“Listen to me, Harry. I can’t guarantee that it won’t happen, but in the unlikely event that we do die, it will not be your fault. You are a child. You are not to blame for the fact that you’re in danger. I promise you that we have plans in place.”

Harry loosened his grip slightly, but Jean held him, still rocking him. Little by little, Harry relaxed more and more until he fell asleep again. It took a little while, but eventually, sleep took him again.

When he woke up again, it was dawn. Harry realized that Jean was sitting on the floor, next to his head, reading with one hand while Harry clutched her other. “Mum?” he asked sleepily.

She looked up and smiled. “Morning Harry,” she greeted, bending over and kissing him on the forehead. She frowned. “Still a bit warm… you up for some tea?” Harry was… exhausted. It was the only way to describe it. He didn’t want to do anything but sleep. The past couple days, the adults had been trying to cajole him into eating but Harry just wasn’t up for it. He knew they were adding things to his broths and teas to try and keep his nutrition up. “Harry?” Jean prompted.

“Yeah,” Harry agreed. “Tea sounds good.” Moments later, Harry was asleep again. 

Jean sighed heavily. There were two more days before the antidote would be ready and she wondered if Harry’s body could take it. Harry was already sleeping almost constantly as it was and given the events of the night before, shouldn’t be left alone. Jean acknowledged that she was overreacting, but her baby was dying and all she was allowed to do was sit around and wait. It honestly made her wonder if there was another school somewhere where Harry and Hermione would be safer. She’d have to ask Hermione. It was something to consider. 

The tea kettle whistled and Jean poured herself and Harry both a mug. Remus walked in, a bit startled at Jean’s presence. He was usually the first person downstairs in the morning, except for days after the full moon. “Morning Jean,” he greeted.

“Morning Remus. Would you like a cuppa?”

“I would. Thank you.” Remus said, accepting the mug. “Is there- I mean, did - How’d it go last night?”

Jean sighed. “Harry dreamed the Dursleys took him away from here. It took him a while to get settled again.”

“I can imagine,” Remus answered. “It will be awhile before that particular fear subsides, if it ever does.”

“Sounds like you know from experience,” Jean commented as she started assembling what she would need for breakfast. Maybe she could coax Harry into eating some plain eggs and dry toast.

“Spent a lot of years afraid the werewolf who bit me would come to take me away from my parents,” Remus admitted in a low voice. “Those particular dreams faded eventually, but those fears can be pretty deeply rooted.”

Jean made a sympathetic sound. “I’m glad you’re not troubled by that particular dream anymore, at least.” She frowned down at the eggs as she scrambled them. “As much as I dislike the idea of more medications, is there any way you know of to get more nutrients into Harry? He’s wasting away…”

“There are nutrient potions, but given that we can’t use magic to treat this particular poison… I think they were ruled as potentially unsafe and probably not worth the risk,” Remus answered. “We do have a stock of them ready to administer as soon as the antidote is successful, though. It will still take time to get him fit again, even with them, but it will help restore his reserves more quickly.”

“Dammit,” Jean swore under her breath.

“Jean?” Remus asked hesitantly. Seeing Jean’s sharp glance towards the living room, he flicked his wand and cast a muffling spell. “Harry can’t hear us right now. Are you all right?”

“My baby is dying, Remus. Of course I’m not all right,” she replied in a heavy voice. “I think someone’s going to have to sit with him at night, too. He won’t ask for help or company, but the dreams aren’t helping his struggle against the poison. He fell off the couch last night and nearly hit his head on the coffee table.”

Remus flicked his wand again and summoned his Patronus. “Ask Sirius to go sit with Harry, please, while we get breakfast ready,” he told it. Jean watched, a little startled, as the wispy creature bounded out of the room through the wall, presumably for Sirius. “We’ll take care of Harry, Jean. Is there anything I can do to help you, in the meantime?”

Jean sniffled and shook her head. “I’ll be better once he is. I’m a mother. I can cope until then.”

Remus awkwardly reached out and rested a hand on her shoulder. “I know this is all bewildering and terrifying for you, too, Jean,” he said gently. “This isn’t an illness you can take to the doctor, and you know Harry is losing a part of himself as this goes on. It’s understandable that you’re upset.”

“I never expected to get so attached,” Jean admitted. “When Hermione brought Harry home… I figured we’d give him a safe place to stay and that would be it. But then I  _ met _ Harry…”

“And you realized how much he needed you, needed a family, and needed to be loved,” Remus finished for her, and Jean nodded. “Your daughter comes by her large heart honestly. She’s very much like you, you know.”

“I know. And I knew Hermione loved him the first time I saw them together,” Jean agreed. “Still I… I know Lily’s his birth mum but I can’t help but feel like he’s been meant to be mine from the beginning. Yes, Harry needs us, but we need Harry too. He just… fits into our family.”

“I could see that when I first met you,” Remus observed. “You all looked like a family - like you had been from the start. I admit that I was afraid that Harry wouldn’t find room for me in his family at first. But it appears that he has James’ heart.”

Jean plated Harry’s eggs and toast and Remus cast a warming charm on the plate while they finished everyone else’s breakfast. 

George walked in as they were wrapping up. “Morning dear,” he said, greeting Jean with a kiss. “Hermione’s still asleep. I think everything going on with Harry has really taken a toll on her.”

“We’ll have to make sure she doesn’t get sick too,” Jean reminded them. “I figured we could all make our own plates and eat with Harry in the front room.”

“If Hermione is still asleep, I think we should leave her be,” Remus suggested. “I’m sure between us, we can make sure she gets something warm to eat when she wakes on her own.”

Jean nodded her agreement, passing around plates. “While I’m not usually one to let my children laze around in bed during their hols, with Harry sick and Hermione stressed and at risk I’m inclined to agree at the moment. There’s plenty of food, and four of us capable of making sure she eats something.”

“Hermione isn’t usually prone to sleeping late, in any case,” George commented as he served himself breakfast. “I’m thinking if she is still asleep it’s either because she had trouble sleeping or because she really just needs it.”

“Either is reasonable, and it’s likely a bit of both,” Remus said with a sigh. He took the second plate Jean handed him and began to dish up breakfast for Sirius as well. “She does have a full load of electives, but I’m not sure that’s actually a bad thing. She’s had plenty to keep her busy, and since she and Harry share all their classes at least we know that he’ll have plenty of help getting caught up again.”

“I did mean what I said about Hermione letting us take care of Harry,” George began, but Remus shook his head.

“Hermione is at the top of their year and taking all the advanced courses,” Remus explained. “She is regularly found in the library and is always willing to help other students. She has plenty of experience as a peer tutor to help Harry catch up on his school work once he’s better.”

“Her teachers always said the same about her in primary school. One even ventured the theory that she actually has a better grasp of the material once she has helped someone else learn it as well,” Jean mused thoughtfully as they headed into the living room with full plates.

“You do have to know the lesson quite well in order to teach it to someone else,” Remus agreed.

“We should spend some time with her over the next week. Everyone’s focus has been on Harry, but her needs are important as well,” George suggested. “But right now I think we should get Harry up and get him to eat breakfast. Good morning, Sirius,” he added, nodding towards the dark haired man sitting beside Harry.

“Morning George, Jean, Moony. Thanks for breakfast,” Sirius replied. “Where’s Hermione?”

“Still asleep,” Remus answered as he handed off the second plate he carried to Sirius. George passed out silverware while Jean settled on the floor beside Harry.

“Poor Kitten,” Sirius sighed.

“Harry, honey. Wake up, please,” Jean said, shaking Harry’s shoulder just a bit. He wasn’t usually a deep sleeper.

Harry screwed up his face. “Hmmm?” he wordlessly asked.

“We’ve got breakfast for you son,” George said.

“Not hungry,” Harry slurred.

“Eat just a few bites? Please?” Sirius begged strategically. “For me?”

Harry sighed and opened his eyes. 

George helped Harry shift to sit up on the floor in front of the coffee table. He ate slow, but his hand was steady, so everyone settled into talking. Harry only half-listened, doing his best to force food into his stomach so they would let him go back to sleep. He knew they were worried, and was vaguely aware that he’d been losing weight, but it all just seemed like too much trouble.

He ate one of the pieces of toast and actually felt the tiniest bit less nauseous. He’d eaten most of his plate when he stopped, full.

“You did good, kiddo,” George praised when he realized Harry was finished eating. “Did you want to curl back up on the couch and nap for a while?”

“Yes, please,” Harry mumbled. Remus and George helped him to his feet and Sirius shook out the blankets before covering Harry up again. Harry was asleep almost as soon as his head touched the pillow, though.

Hermione woke up not long after and ate. The entire house had gained a tense air. Snape’s antidote would be ready by noon the next day, so the race was on. For lunch, Jean made Harry a smoothie with spinach and lots of plants, with just a few pieces of fruit and honey to sweeten it. Harry found that the smoothie was easier to keep down, as long as he didn’t drink too fast. 

During the afternoon they played a couple rounds of go fish before Harry took a nap; while he slept, Hermione settled at the far end of the couch with a book, his feet on her lap. Harry got another smoothie for dinner when they woke him next. Jean agreed to let Hermione read to Harry for a while after dinner, while the adults took care of cleaning up the dishes and packing up leftovers.

When George went back to the living room to check on the children, he found them both asleep on the couch. He frowned and checked Hermione for a fever or other signs of illness, but found nothing. She looked a little pale and there were faint shadows under her eyes, but she seemed fine otherwise. He adjusted Harry’s blankets to cover them both and started back to the kitchen.

Suddenly some instinct had him turn back and he saw Hermione awake looking petrified, watching Harry until the blanket moved. “Love?” George whispered.

Hermione jumped, then looked at her father. “I… had a nightmare. I’ve been having nightmares for weeks.”

“Come on, love, let’s go get some tea,” George suggested.

After Hermione was settled in the kitchen with her tea, she spoke. “I have this dream,” she admitted softly. “That Harry dies. It wakes me up. That’s why I haven’t been sleeping much.”

“Harry isn’t going to die, love,” George said, embracing her tightly. “He’s here, isn’t he? Do you think for a second any of us would be okay with him being here if he wasn’t?”

Hermione buried her face in her father’s shirt, feeling much younger than fourteen-and-a-half. “I know,” she murmured, her voice muffled slightly by the shirt. “I’m still scared. It’s hard and it kinda hurts. I can feel… I feel him fading. It’s like a pressure on my chest, something getting heavier as he gets weaker.”

Remus and Sirius exchanged a long look, then they both went into the living room and started transfiguring couches into beds. When they had finished, Harry lay on a twin bed that was surrounded on all four sides by beds of varying sizes. Full mattresses for Remus and Sirius, a twin for Hermione, and a queen bed for Jean and George. Hermione, Jean, and George watched from the hall, slightly amused. 

When they were finished, Remus waved Hermione over to the twin sized bed right next to Harry’s. “I need to ask you something, Hermione, and I need you to be absolutely honest with me, okay?” he said solemnly. Hermione nodded, her expression somber. “When you say you can feel Harry fading, do you actually feel what he’s feeling? Or is it something else?”

Hermione considered the question for a long moment. “I think it’s something else,” she said finally. “I don’t really feel sick or anything like Harry is. It’s more like… like the two of us are carrying something between us, and every time his grip falters or he slips, I have to catch whatever it is. And… and the sicker he gets, the less of a grip he has on whatever it is.”

Sirius blew out a heavy breath. “If I had to guess, I’d say it’s the magic bond between you,” he commented. “Family magic was never really meant to only be held by a single person; that’s why it’s family magic. Harry’s been carrying it his whole life, so he doesn’t know any better. But now you’re feeling the pressure because this bloody poison is eating away at his connection to his magic.”

“Will Hermione feel better when Harry does, then?” Jean ventured.

“I would think so, but unfortunately I think we’re still in a ‘wait and see’ position,” Remus admitted. “We’re definitely well outside of what would be considered normal circumstances.”

“Thank god the potion will be ready tomorrow,” George intoned, echoing the sentiment that all the adults had voiced at one time or another. 

“And if they can find whomever did this, I want them prosecuted for harming not one but two children,” Jean said angrily. “This behavior is inexcusable.”

“Unfortunately, we can’t,” Remus said. “Not unless we want to admit what’s truly going on with Harry Potter.”

“And given the climate, that’s not a good idea,” Sirius confirmed. “The chances of it backfiring… well, let’s just say that I’d rather not leave something like Harry’s custody to chance. They’re young enough that someone might argue that Harry was coerced into doing it and they may try to break the bond.”

“Once the children are better, I would very much appreciate a detailed briefing on the politics and social climate of the wizarding world,” George said firmly. “It’s clear that any mistakes we make as a family could have disastrous consequences, all out of proportion to the mistake.”

“I found a spell that let me duplicate Theo’s books,” Hermione offered. “It’s mostly etiquette training for purebloods, but…”

“Every field where we can meet them on their own terms is one less area where they can blindside us or look down on us,” George agreed. “Get them out for me tomorrow, would you love?”

“Of course,” Hermione agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 Masterchef originally aired on the BBC from 1990-2001 and so would be contemporary for the Granger family.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The part you've all been waiting for...

While everyone fell asleep quickly and the night passed without incident, the next morning went slowly. Harry was much harder to rouse for breakfast. Almost as soon as Sirius was able to coax him awake, he was falling asleep again. His breathing wasn’t too good either, and the baseline of his now-constant fever had ratcheted up another half-degree. 

As requested, Hermione got out the etiquette books for her parents and everyone settled in the living room, attempting to read as well as watching over Harry. Sirius fielded a few questions from George, but it was clear neither man was entirely focused on the material.

By the time Snape arrived, just before noon, everyone was ready to be done with the poison. Snape wordlessly handed the antidote to Sirius, who sat Harry up. “Harry, I need you to take this,” Sirius’ voice was firm.

”No,” Harry whined, uncharacteristically. “Don’ wanna…”

“Harry, if you take this, you can sleep for as long as you want to this afternoon,” Sirius tried again. “We won’t bother you.”

“P’mise?” Harry slurred. Snape frowned, clearly bothered by how out of character Harry was acting.

“Yeah kiddo,” Sirius lied. Harry opened his mouth and swallowed the concoction, then sighed as a cool wave of relief washed over his lungs, his throat, and his skin. “That did it,” Sirius confirmed, a warm hand on Harry’s forehead. “His fever’s finally broken and his breathing’s back to normal.”

“Thank god,” Jean murmured, tearing up out of relief as she rushed over to check Harry over herself. “Thank god…”

“So why is he still asleep?” George queried.

Harry felt too tired to open his eyes, but he tilted his head toward his Mum and Dad.

“The poison put a major strain on Harry’s magic, and his connection to it,” Snape explained. “It likely exhausted him. It will take some time for him to get his strength back up. He needs to eat and drink as many calories as possible now.”

“Are nutrient potions safe at this point?” Remus asked. Snape nodded his agreement.

“Burgers and chips good for everyone?” George asked. “Professor, would you like to stay for lunch?”

“I must abstain, regretfully. My presence is required at the school,” Snape said. 

Jean ducked into the kitchen as Snape demurred and returned with a small container of Easter pastries. “If you can’t stay, at least take these. With our thanks, Professor Snape.”

Snape hesitated, then finally took the gift with a regal nod. “Thank you, Madam Granger.”

“You’re always welcome in our home,” Jean replied. “Again, thank you. For this and for helping our children in all the ways you have.” She saw the Professor to the Floo while George went to the phone to order burgers and chips for the whole family. Hermione followed him into the kitchen and pulled out the blender, then located Jean’s book of recipe cards and flipped through until she found one with instructions for milkshakes.

“Good idea, sweetheart,” Jean said, following them into the kitchen. “Will you help me cut up fruit to add? We can make strawberry-banana shakes.”

“Of course, Mum.”

Harry woke up again to the smell of food, realizing that he was  _ starving _ . He sat up a little too quickly and Remus was instantly by his side. “Woah. Harry,” Remus cajoled. “Not so fast. What do you need? Trash can? Bathroom?”

“Food,” Harry interjected. “I’m starving.”

“Not too fast,” Jean requested as she brought a small plate over. Harry nodded as he held the plate on his knees, trying his best not to wolf his food down. He’d learned the hard way, one terrible summer after having gone several weeks on little food, how bad it was to eat too much, too fast when one hadn’t eaten in quite some time.

“Well, I think it’s safe to say your appetite is back,” Sirius laughed as Harry was the first to finish his meal, even though he slowed down when a second helping was provided to him along with a milkshake. Everyone else looked extremely relieved. 

“If you’re finished eating for now, take one of these,” Remus said, handing over a small potion vial.

“What is it?” Harry asked, curious for the first time in ages - or at least what felt like it.

“Nutrient potion,” Remus answered. “You missed a significant number of meals over the past week or so, and you need to restore your body in a healthy way.”

Harry nodded and drank the potion quickly, though amazingly enough it didn’t taste horrible. Sort of vaguely fruity, if anything, though it didn’t taste like any one particular thing.

After they ate, Harry talked everyone into letting him do a couple hours of class work. Thankfully the essays set to him were all on subjects he and Hermione had already studied. Sirius refused to give Harry’s wand back just yet, though, saying that he needed his energy for healing and not for magic practice yet. Harry objected, but the adults seemed to have formed a unified force during Harry’s illness.

The other annoyance was that they didn’t allow him off the couch, which, frankly, Harry was sick of. After finishing his Transfiguration, Harry’s energy flagged the tiniest bit and Jean suggested a nap. Harry didn’t want a nap though. He’d slept a lot in the last three weeks and the potion had cured him of what was wrong, right?

“Not entirely,” was the response Hermione gave him when he ventured the quiet question. “The poison was affecting your body’s ability to connect to your magic. It will take time for that connection to fully heal. The potion killed the poison and stopped the damage, but it still needs to heal, Harry.”

“But I feel fine,” Harry protested.

But Hermione shook her head. “You feel better. You’re healing. You’re not back to normal, though.”

“How can you tell?”

Hesitating, Hermione sighed. “Because your family magic has been pressuring me to take up the slack as it was losing its connection to you. I’m not back to normal yet, so you must not be either.”

“Maybe we could watch a movie?” Jean suggested as a compromise. Hermione suggested a documentary and though he wouldn’t admit his fatigue, Harry was too tired to catch on to what they were doing. Hermione selected a documentary on pandas and Harry was asleep before the first pandas appeared.

Sirius, meanwhile, sat and watched the telly, fascinated by the creatures. “They look so awkward…” he breathed. “But so cute. Where do these things live?”

“China,” Hermione commented, not taking her eyes off of the adorable creatures while Jean passed her and Sirius a giant bowl of popcorn.

“Okay, forget eating like a horse. Eating like a panda is much worse,” Sirius said when the narrator discussed the 14 hours a day pandas spend eating.

“I’m pretty sure the Weasley boys would eat like pandas if the school allowed,” Remus joked. Hermione snorted, Ron’s horrible table manners coming immediately to mind. And how he shoveled food into his mouth like it was about to disappear.

“As if Molly Weasley would ever fail to prepare enough food in her house,” Sirius replied with a sharp laugh. “Those boys have never actually been hungry in their lives.”

“Molly definitely seemed the type to over-prepare rather than the alternative,” George commented. “Though we’ve only met her on a few occasions.”

Over the next several days, Harry and Hermione slowly continued to get better. After a couple of days, Hermione finally felt almost back to normal, sort of like she was shaking off a bad cold. Harry, meanwhile, was able to make it through the day with only one short nap after lunch and had finally been allowed to sleep back in his bedroom. He’d been given his wand back, much to his relief.

It did take a few attempts for Harry to  _ accio _ a book over to him in the magical expansion of the house, while Remus tutored them on 4th year spells, but he tried hard. Still, even though he’d finally gotten the spell to work, the book didn’t quite make it into his hands, and landed on the floor several feet away before Harry really understood how compromised his magic had become. Afterwards, he grudgingly accepted the limitations Sirius and Remus put on his use of magic, even for practice and homework.

On Sunday, Sirius and Remus surprised Harry with a huge, ornate Easter Egg, in Wizarding tradition. There was one for Hermione as well, and they were each uniquely decorated. There was an unspoken air that everyone was celebrating more than just Easter this year. When the eggs were opened, they revealed an assortment of sweets - both magical and mundane. Harry boggled at the treasure-trove of treats, and Hermione giggled when her parents handed them new toothbrushes in response. Though the Grangers didn’t stint on holiday treats, either, so Harry took the joke with good grace. Jean did allow Harry to sit at the kitchen table to slice vegetables and prepare the salad for the family’s Easter dinner. Hermione made the biscuits herself, under Harry’s watchful guidance, and she beamed when they came out of the oven golden and perfect.

Harry’s magic came back in spurts as he healed. Even though he sent his pile of tissues flying every time he sneezed, his parents still sat on each side of him every night while the family watched a movie. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief the first time he made it through the day without any naps, and the day before they were supposed to return to Hogwarts Harry was no longer wheezing. Surprisingly, Harry realized that some of the aches and pains in his limbs was a growth spurt that was occurring, rather than being part of illness. 

“Your Dad was pretty tall,” Remus noted when Harry revealed his shock at realizing he was almost as tall as Ron, half a head taller than Hermione. “It stands to reason now that you have regular meals your body is catching up to your genetics.”

“In the Muggle world, it’s possible that it might not,” George observed. “I suspect your magic is helping with that, and I’m actually glad to hear it.”

“Why?” Harry asked, curious.

“Because it means you’re making a fuller recovery than you might have otherwise,” George explained. Harry nodded his understanding.

By the time the holiday was over, Harry was well on the way back to normal. It was going to take some real effort to get caught up in classes, though, since the practical magic side was recovering more slowly than the rest of him. After he returned to Hogwarts and his classes, he was a little surprised to find that his professors were very understanding about the situation, though, and while essay due dates were still constant, he was given more time as needed to produce results in the practical side of things. 

“I know it was hard going through it,” Hermione responded when Harry brought it up in the AA room. “But I think it’s partially in reaction to watching you go through it. I did some more research into the poison. Apparently the International Confederacy of Wizards banned use or mention of it in classrooms due to its barbarism.”

“It’s like someone cut off your ability to use your lungs little by little,” Theo added quietly, looking very dark indeed. “But still let you live. So slowly over time, you’re suffocating little by little.”

“There are those who believe that one’s magical core is what transfers them to the afterlife,”  Adella continued just as solemnly. “And those who are cut off from their cores cannot cross to the other side or become ghosts or anything. They simply… cease to exist.”

“Let’s talk about something happier,” Neville interrupted, looking pale. “Harry, did you and Hermione get any work done on the water bottle?”

Though unable to work on the practical side of his magical study in those early weeks, Harry was amused to watch Hermione complete the prototype broom-water bottle the AA had discussed so much earlier in the year. Luna was working with her to create and modify the charms they wanted on both the bottle and the holder; the holders were automatically sizeable, to account for minor differences in broom handle diameter, or possibly children’s brooms, and could be charmed to match House or team colors. Hermione had been stuck on charming the parts so the bottle would return to the holder if suddenly dropped, but Luna’s out-of-the-box ideas about magic helped overcome the challenge. The bottles and holders were also charmed to resist damage, just in case they were dropped or collisions happened. Luna had also found a spell to keep warm liquids hot and cold liquids cold, so tea could be drunk on chilly mornings, or cool water, even on the hottest day.

While the girls tweaked the magic, Draco was in the process of finalizing the business plan for producing and marketing the product. Harry and Neville were also involved in the planning to some extent, as they were planning to fund it. Harry never used all his discretionary school money during the year, and Neville had an allowance from his own vaults, as overseen by his grandmother.

Once they had all the pieces of their plan and product completed, they took it to Professor Snape. Draco knew his Godfather had experience with patenting potions of his own creation and believed he would be able to help with their prototype as well. Snape was impressed by their ingenuity and the completeness of their plan and agreed to help with the legal process. 

In early May, Harry received a letter from Sirius. The trial had finally concluded. Pettigrew had been sentenced to life in Azkaban, but someone had slipped up during the trip to the Wizarding prison and the rat had managed to escape again. Alerts went out around the world with Pettigrew’s description in both human and animagus forms, but there wasn’t a whole lot that could be done. Sirius concluded the letter by saying that, while he was angry that Pettigrew hadn’t received justice, he was consoled by the fact that witches and wizards everywhere now knew the truth about him and what he had done.

Harry meanwhile threw himself into finally pulling out a win for the Quidditch final, which Gryffindor won by a significant point margin, and studying for final exams. It wasn’t until the day exams finished that they really even had time to think about anything other than school. 

Before they knew it, the AA was gathering for their last meeting of the year. For the first time since they’d started their little group, they had to say some real goodbyes. Two of their number, Marcus and Melody, were graduates.

“What will you be doing, now that school’s done?” Hermione asked curiously.

“I haven’t fully decided,” Melody admitted with a sigh. “I have some options, at least.”

“What would you really want to do?” Blaise leaned forward with interest; their year had only had some cursory information given about possible career paths, mostly to help them select their electives.

“What I really would love is to find a Master willing to take on an Apprentice and earn myself a Mastery,” Melody said with a soft sigh. “Eventually, I think maybe I’d like to teach. But there are other things I’d like to explore...”

“That sounds wonderful!” Luna enthused. “Education is so important, and especially if we want to change the kind of circumstances that have led to bigotry and war.”

“She’s right,” Adella put in with a smile.

“Ravenclaws,” Theo huffed, but it was playful. Theo was just as likely as any of them to gain a Mastery and possibly teach one day. He had the right mindset for it, and he tore through books as fast as Hermione did.

“I start an internship with the Ministry this summer,” Marcus said proudly. “I’ll be working for the Department of Magical Sports. I’m really looking forward to it, especially with the World Cup coming up.”

“You always did love Quidditch, Marc,” Adella commented with a fond smile. “You’ll have to keep us posted about anything fun. Maybe we can all meet up over the summer for a Quidditch game.”

Hermione assented along with everyone else; she wasn’t the biggest Quidditch fan, but she knew her friends enjoyed it and she’d go along with it just to see everybody happy. Eventually the group split to return to their common rooms, but Hermione insisted that Marcus and Melody keep their communication coins. Just in case.

That evening, after packing for their trip home the next day, Harry disappeared from the Common Room. After a while, Hermione found him watching the sunset up on the astronomy tower, arms wrapped around his knees as he sat on a bench, staring off at the horizon.

“Here you are,” Hermione said. “I didn’t know where you’d gone.”

“Here I am,” Harry agreed tonelessly.

“Are you okay?” Hermione asked. “You’ve seemed… off.”

Harry sighed. “I don’t know. I always thought Dumbledore was making it up, the over-cautious thing about Voldemort still being out there somewhere, trying to come back… It always felt like it was just a story, you know? It was something to tell people. Like Sauron in  _ The Lord of the Rings _ . But this year… with Sirius and Pettigrew and the assassination attempt… we’re headed for war.”

“I know,” she agreed quietly. She walked to the wall of the tower and looked out over the grounds as the fading light dappled the ground with shadows. “Whether or not Voldemort does actually return, lines are being drawn between sides. You’re a target because of who you are and because of Sirius. I’m a target because I’m Muggle-born. And because the pure-blood supremacists can’t handle the fact that I’m a stronger witch than their precious babies, despite the circumstances of my birth.” Harry couldn’t help but chuckle as Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Do you ever regret getting close to me, Mia?” Harry asked quietly. “You would be a lot safer, and your life a lot simpler, if not for me.”

“Of course I don’t,” Hermione replied immediately. “My life might be a bit safer, but it would also be a lot emptier. Aside from meeting Neville on the train, you and Ron were my first friends at Hogwarts. For a while, you three were my only friends.” She rested her hand on top of Harry’s. “I wouldn’t trade what we have between us for anything. You’re my brother; it really is that simple.”

“Then I guess all we can do is face what’s coming together,” Harry accepted.

Hermione beamed at him, the sort of expression that Harry had learned combined love and pride, and he saw it more often when did things like admitting he needed help. It always made him smile back at her; the feeling it provoked in him wasn’t quite the same as the sudden flare of fierce joy when he received a similar expression from their parents, Sirius or Remus, but more like a warm feeling that wrapped around his whole being in a gentler way.

“Stronger together,” she recited. Harry pulled a face. “What’s wrong?” she asked, shocked.

Harry considered denying that anything was wrong. He was sorely tempted, but he knew Hermione would poke at him until it came out. 

“It was different from last time. I… with the chamber I had a choice. I could make decisions. It went badly, but it was my choice to make. This was… out of my control.”

Hermione nodded. “I know. I understand. We’ll figure out who did it. You made it and you’re still choosing to fight. That counts for a whole lot.”

Harry knew Hermione really did understand. He sometimes wondered about the difference, and wondered if it were the magic between them or something else. Perhaps he could talk to Sirius about it over the summer.

“So, what now?” Hermione finally asked.

Harry shrugged. “We go home for the summer, I guess. Try to have some fun. Do our summer homework. You know we probably won’t be told anything until they have to.”

“Right. Because they think we’re just kids, even if its our heads the Sword of Damocles will fall upon,” Hermione sighed. 

Harry chuckled, glad he didn’t have to ask her to explain the reference. Life really had become so much better once he stopped pretending he was stupid. “We’ll just have to see what the next year brings us. Hopefully it will be interesting and less dangerous.”

Hermione snorted. “Knowing you, brother mine, you can’t have one without the other.” They laughed together as the last of the sunlight faded into twilight. 

* * *

In an office in the Ministry, two people sat talking. “I checked the MLE,” the man reported. “No one has any clue who poisoned Harry Potter.”

“Good,” the other person said. “You’ve wrapped up your end of the bargain nicely. You’ll receive the rest of your payment in a month."

“I still don’t understand. Why target the boy?”

“Sirius Black made our master vulnerable,” the person said with a frown. “It was a reminder… that there are repercussions when you challenge real power.”

“But a boy? Isn’t that kinda…” the man looked uncomfortable. “I’ve got kids just a little younger than Potter.”

“Potter isn’t nearly as innocent as everyone thinks he is. He doesn’t deserve the celebrity status he has, like our master does. From what my sources tell me, he spends most of his time with muggles and muggle-borns. Believe me, I’m fully intent on making sure Potter gets exactly what he deserves.”

 

End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with that, we wrap up Book 3!
> 
> As always, we thank you all profoundly for staying with us through the whole tale. Comments and feedback have been wonderful, and we hope they will continue to be so in the future!
> 
> It will likely be a little while before we have enough of Goblet of Fire to start posting, but we're sure it will be worth the wait. We do both have other projects we're wanting to get done before we come back to this world. But rest assured, we WILL come back. There are at least two, perhaps three, more stories on the planning board.

**Author's Note:**

> We love to respond to comments, questions and feedback (though we won't provide spoilers in comments). Please let us know what you're thinking or feeling when you read!


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